


The Easterling

by Scribe32oz



Series: The Fourth Age [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fantasy, Fourth Age, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 92,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: When Legolas Greenleaf decides to aid the Ranger Melia on a quest to find her mother, they stumble into a search that is more than anything imagined when they discover that Saruman was not the only one who sought to create an army of evil. As this long dormant power emerges to cast its shadow upon Middle Earth, Melia discovers she may have the key to its destruction and perhaps the key to the Prince of Mirkwood's heart.





	1. The tale of Melia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this was written way back when before Return of the King was released at the movies.

In truth the Ranger Melia had not left the Sunlands as much as she had fled from it.

For most of the ages, the lands of the Far East had been a mystery to the races of the north. Most surmised that it was a place of great evil since the Haradrim or the Easterlings, as they were sometimes known, bowed to the will of Sauron. This was not as much a conscious decision made by its people as it was an unfortunate fact of their existence to which they had little choice but to accept. Thus, as much of the northlands were shaped by the noble hearts of Imladris and Minas Tirith, the people of south and the east took their lead from the greatest kingdom in their sphere, which unfortunately was Mordor.

Because of their allegiance to Mordor, the Easterlings had little to do with the lands beyond its border other than to wage war. What little Middle earth knew of them was scarce and garnered from the experience gained whilst warring with the Haradrim. Together, with the Balchoth Variags and the Easterling barbarians called the Wainriders, they were as fierce in battle as Orcs and they were found to be almost as treacherous, giving no quarter when they launched their savage assaults. Physically, they were different from the fair folk of the north, being dark skinned and swarthy, sometimes riding chariots while fighting their enemies astride huge tusked animals called mumakils. Their weapons were composed of curved daggers, scimitars, spears, pikes and crossbows.

This estrangement continued until the conclusion of the War of the Ring. King Elessar, in an effort to unite his kingdom and create a real atmosphere of unity amongst all peoples of Middle earth whatever their past origins and affiliations, had extended the hand of friendship towards the Easterlings. Those that were not destroyed at the battle of Pelennor accepted the hand of friendship uneasily but nonetheless did so with the same desire for an end to the wars that had defined their existence for so long. For the first time since their very creation, all the races of men could know peace.

However, not all the tribes of the Easterlings were the enemies of the northlands under the yoke of Sauron. Some had fought with the elves in the First Age, the most notable being the Easterling hero Bor. Though he died in that war, his surviving kinsmen who had not fallen with him had traveled farther south east than any other race in Middle earth. Journeying into what was known as the Sunlands, the kindred of Bor established a nation of their own; separate from the Haradrim and all those races who were loyal to Sauron. Through the ages, they remained free of his evil but their freedom came at a terrible price for they were almost always at war with the rest of their neighbours who could not accept their refusal to bow to the will of the dark lord.

It was during the interlude of one of these endless wars that the Easterling Hezare left his tribe to explore the lands of the north. A warrior, who had spent more than half his years fighting one battle after another, he had wanted to see something of the world before he faced yet another conflict with his neighbors. To this end, he left the lands of his birth and continued northwards with the intention of seeing the great cities of the Eldar and the other races so despised by Sauron while he was still alive to do so. Although Sauron and his fortress at Barad-dur had remained silent since Isildur cut the One Ring from the dark lord’s hand, there were whispers in the wind and dreams of a lidless eye among his people that gave him suspicions that Sauron’s time was coming again.

The journey north had taken the better part of a year and it had been fraught with danger as he sailed the western sea and eventually arrived at the Bay of Belfalas. By making the journey by sea, Hezare was able to begin his exploration by sailing the length of the great Anduin River. As he sailed up the mightiest waterway of Middle earth, he was to see Pelagir and Minas Tirith. When he chose to travel by land for a time, he was able to see Isengard and the Orthanc. After passing Rauros Falls and returning to the Anduin, he was able to stare in wonderment at the Argonath and wish that in the Sunlands, they had will to inspire such magnificence instead of endless war.

He had even grazed the outskirts of Mirkwood though it was never wise to traverse the great wood alone, especially when so much of it was occupied by foul creatures of darkness. He met the dwarves and marveled at the skills of their smiths in being able to mold precious metals to suit any purpose. From their war masters, he learnt ways to fashion better weapons which he could take home to his people. Of the Eldar he saw little. Though he had wandered the wood of Lothlorien, he came away only with the feeling that he was being allowed passage but under great sufferance.

He did not blame the First Born for their indifference to him for he was from a race of men known to be allies of Sauron and he forgave them their suspicions. They had no reason to trust him since they knew nothing of him or the people. How could they when he was most likely the first Easterling that had ever ventured this far without the thought of conquest? A lesser man might have been disheartened by their rejection but Hezare was not a man to dwell on things he could not change and so he resumed his journey, preparing to follow its entire length before he turned back for home.

He might have well spent years sailing Anduin if not for the occurrence of one singular event that changed the course of his life.

Her name was Ninuie and she was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. Her folk supposedly dwelt along the river although he never saw them because when he happened upon her that midsummer’s eve, she was living alone in a cottage by the banks of the river. She called herself a River Woman, though he did not fully comprehend what that meant. In truth, he was not eager to meet her folk if she had any, for he feared they would reject him because he was an Easterling and he could not bear to lose her. Everything about her was a dream and he was lost the minute he laid eyes upon her. He did not know why she loved him but he rejoiced that she did because they were married within the month of their first meeting. Although he knew she had her secrets, he dared not question them for she was the single light of his existence and he feared that questioning the dream might diminish it.

For the year that she was his wife, Hezare knew happiness unlike any he had ever experienced. She showed him things about the river, about the wood where she lived, she taught him to cherish life and find beauty in places one would never think to look. When she told him that she was carrying his child, he thought he might die from sheer joy. All his life, he had only ever known death and blood, to know that he had created something that lived and breathed, that would be to him as beautiful as its mother was more than he had ever dreamed.

She was born under the light of a full moon and her mother named her Melia after the Maiar spirit who tended the Dreamland of Lorien and was attendant to Vana the Youthful, and Este, the healer. They lived happily in their cottage, far away from the eyes of the world until Melia had reached her second year. Then, Hezare who had been away from his homeland for far too long felt the stirrings of his native lands and yearned for home. He announced to Ninuie that it was time for him to return and he expected her to be at his side when they left Middle earth forever.

On the eve of their journey, Ninuie disappeared.

He waited for days for her return, praying that her disappearance had to do with a desire to see her fair folk but in truth, he knew that she was not coming back. She had never showed her unhappiness by his desire to return home, merely reveal a resignation that what must be must be. A month after her disappearance, Hezare knew he could no longer wait and with the only thing that mattered to him in the face of his despair, he took Melia and made the long journey home to the Sunlands.

Once home, he fell again into the pattern of combat, often going away for months to fight new battles and returning to her so that he could lavish upon her all the love and affection he was denied showing her mother. He taught Melia skills that no woman of the Sunlands should have, for it was the custom of the Easterlings to have their women be cloistered away and forbidden to touch weapons or speak out of turn to men. They were married by the will of their father’s choice and had very little say of their fates. Until Hezare had journeyed to the northlands, he had never imagined there could be any other way and though it was folly to do so, he raised his daughter in the ways of her mother’s land.

By the time she had reached her sixteenth year, she had become accustomed to being an outcast among her people. Her mixed heritage had ensured she did not completely resemble most Easterlings and her skills with a crossbow was certainly frowned upon by all who knew of it. Her father was a respected member of his tribe and so little was said in his presence but Melia could hear the whispers behind her back. She bore them silently, telling him nothing of it because his defense of her would only worsen the situation. She bore her loneliness in silence and pretended that it did not matter when in truth, it mattered a great deal.

It was inevitable that there would be a day when he did not come home from battle.

His death devastated her but not even Melia suspected how much things would change now that he was gone. At the age of eighteen, she was still unmarried, a thing unheard of by the standards of her tribe and well meaning relatives moved immediately to rectify the situation. Within a month of his death, Melia learnt that she was to marry a man twice her age, whose sole interest in her rested upon how many children she could bear him. Her refusal was met with indifference for it was not her place to refuse what appeared to be a fine match. With a heavy heart, Melia came to the understanding that there was only one course left to her.

Flight.

In the dead of the night she had left, an escape that would have earned her death if she had been caught. A woman breaking a marriage arranged by her family was considered no less than a criminal and she had little intention of being branded as such for desiring to choose her own destiny. She did not even know where she was going until she had found herself hiding in the galley of a sailing vessel travelling the Inland Sea. She was alone and she knew no one who would help her.

It was only during this voyage of terrible uncertainty that the purpose of her life would take shape. If her father was gone then it was time to find her mother.

The scope of what she had chosen to do had not dawned upon her yet. That would come later when she realized just how little she did know about the woman who bore her. Her father had told her next to nothing and Melia had always believed his reluctance to speak of Ninuie was because of his own heartache at losing her. Only when Melia reached the lands of Gondor and began the search herself, did she understand that his lack of explanation was due to the fact that he himself knew little about the woman he had married.

Her mother was a River Woman but Melia had no idea what that meant.

The Gondorians spoke of such women being spirits, not entirely of the flesh. Melia knew that this could not be true for a spirit does not conceive and deliver a child. Yet if they were to be believed, that her mother was some creature beyond the understanding of men, what then did that make her? The greater the mystery deepened, the more insistent Melia became in finding out the truth because she carried a secret she told no one, not even her father in all the years of his life, that when she slept she dreamed of her mother.

And in every dream, Ninuie was screaming.


	2. Chains of Duty

The message had come to him on the day of the elven new year.

Legolas Greenleaf had been anticipating its arrival for some time now, however now the day was finally here, he found himself consumed by a wave of disappointment that he could not dismiss no matter how much he tried. For months now, he expected the inevitable, hoping against hope that it would delay its appearance as much as possible for he did not relish the demand that would come with it. Without even being in the King’s presence, Legolas knew what inspired his father, Thranduil, to summon him home. Thranduil most likely felt that it was inappropriate for a prince of Mirkwood to ignore the land of his rule by travelling across the length of Middle earth in the company of a dwarf and in service to a king that was not his father.

When Legolas had first come to Minas Tirith following the War of the Ring and the establishment of the Reunified Kingdom, it had been to aid Aragorn in the vanquishing of the orcs that had taken residence in the realm of Dagorland. Left largely unaffected by the War of the Ring, this once favorite battlefield of Sauron’s had become a haven for orcs and the other undesirable creatures of Mordor that had fled to its treacherous empty plains and claimed it for their own. With the Lord of Ithilien, Legolas and a number of his father’s men, loyal soldiers that were not ready for the Undying Lands, had lead the expedition to rid the borders of Gondor and Ithilien of this threat. Unfortunately, it was a malaise that lasted for some time and in between the campaigns, there were other adventures and dangers, most notably the recent difficulties with the ancient enemy Glaurung that had threatened Arwen’s child.

During this time, Legolas relished in being able to remain close to his dear friends, the members of the Fellowship who still remained in Middle earth. Although it was difficult to think of King Elessar as once being the Ranger called Strider, Legolas could still see him as nothing else. The Evenstar, now five months pregnant was also eager to have him remain in the White City, mostly because she still pined for the father that had left for the Undying Lands less than a month ago. Gimli had returned to the Glittering Caves recently and Legolas had been given the happy duty of standing at his side when he wed a lovely dwarf woman who went by the name of Lorin Elfist.

However, it now appeared that he was required home by his father. While Legolas loved Thranduil for the rogue he could sometimes be, there was a part of the Prince that did not relish the idea of returning to the court of Eryn Lasgalen. When he was home in Mirkwood, he was the Crown Prince Legolas who was required to do little but lay in wait for his father’s eventual demise or departure to the Undying Lands so that he could become king. In the meantime, the process of waiting could be endlessly tedious and while hunting the dark, foul things that roamed the greater Mirkwood could be distracting for a time, Legolas felt strangely rudderless. His friends had moved on. Aragorn was king with a wife and a child, not to mention a kingdom to consolidate and to strengthen; a thing that was more than on its way to being accomplished by the conception of an heir to the throne. The same could be said for Faramir, Gimli, even the halfings in the Shire had shaped themselves a future.

What had he done?

He had done nothing and if he returned to Mirkwood, he would continue to do nothing. As Legolas walked the sculpted gardens of the palace in the White City, he could not deny missing the forests of Mirkwood. He missed the smell of the trees in the morning when the warmth of the rising day had melted away the cool night and left its lush scent upon every leaf and flower. He missed its peace and its quiet but he knew if he returned home, it would satisfy this emptiness for a while, not forever. There had to be a benefit in being three thousand years old, to not have the uncertainty of a purposeless life plaguing one’s every thought.

Yet he knew he could not disobey his father. He might be capable of delaying his return for a time but he certainly could not avoid it. Once there, another matter would plague him, one he detested almost as much as returning home and resigning himself to the boredom of life at court. His father had been urging him to deal with this particular issue for quite some time and Legolas had managed to avoid it because everything that had transpired since the discovery of the One Ring had ensured that he was rarely at home to give it any thought. However, Legolas suspected that once he returned to Mirkwood, his father would resume his insistence that he take care of this piece of business.

And that was the acquiring of a wife.

He did not know why this was so important to his father, considering that the man had no plans of vacating the throne of Woodland Realms and so an heir was not required the way Aragorn had needed to solidify his reign. Legolas had lived three thousand years as the Crowned Prince of Mirkwood and his title was unlikely to change in the near future. What need did he have of a wife? Elves did not mate frivolously and though they might engage in the sexual proclivities common to all races, marriage was another thing entirely. Once they bound themselves to another, it was forever. In the same manner that his father had not taken a wife when Legolas’ mother had passed on or Celebrian had left Elrond for the Undying Lands year before, Legolas was not about to choose himself a soul mate simply because tradition demanded it of him.

He was still young by the standards of elves and with many of the elvish peoples departing Middle earth in droves, he knew that should he choose now, he would do so only out of need to satisfy the requirement of wife, not because he was in love. The only woman who had remotely sparked his interest in almost three thousand years of existence was human and that in itself posed a great deal of difficulties. It was folly for an elf and human to love. Luthien and Beren had endured all sorts of trials in order to be together and though it seemed ideal to watch the love of Aragorn and Arwen, Legolas felt sad to think that someday Arwen, the Evenstar would die a mortal death. If he loved a human, eventually he would lose her, he had no delusions of that. Legolas had no idea why he should even entertain such an idea.

Of course, he wondered from time to time how the Ranger Melia fared, though he confessed this to no one. Following their return from Nargothrond, she had returned to the wilds of Angmar, taking up her duties as Ranger. Their journey from the Blue Mountains to Mitholond had been fraught with contention because it was clear she did not appreciate his efforts on her behalf. He supposed in retrospect that much of their arguments had arisen out of his mischief making need to bait since her reactions amused him greatly. However, it was soon clear that she in turn had shown no feeling for him and he had to assume that the infatuation he acquired at the time of their meeting was his folly alone. Fortunately for him, it had since passed and he thought no more of her but in passing.

"Legolas," Aragorn’s sudden call broke him free of his thoughts. "There you are."

Legolas looked up and saw the king before him, appearing as if he had made his presence known long before Legolas had actually heard his name from Aragorn’s lips. The Prince of Mirkwood gazed briefly at the sky above and was somewhat surprised to see that the sun had crested overhead and was starting its evening descent. He had begun this walk shortly after he had received his father’s message and that had been early afternoon. He was not one who often lost track of time but he supposed his father’s news was reason enough for him to experience such a lapse.

"I am sorry," Legolas muttered, "I had not meant to be away for so long."

Aragorn nodded as they stood within a cul-de-sac in the path of the garden, where a fountain made of blue marble was situated. "There is nothing to be sorry for, I merely wondered where you were. I was told that there was a message from your father, King Thranduil."

"Yes," Legolas frowned, showing the king clearly that it was not good news.

"Is it what you feared?" Aragorn asked, having known Legolas long enough to discern why a summons home would upset the Prince to this extent.

"More or less," Legolas shrugged, not bothering to hide his discontent from his old friend. "He would like me home as soon as possible."

"And you mean to go," Aragorn replied with a heavy sigh for he would not be happy to see the back of Legolas. They had been constant companions since the formation of the Fellowship and the War of the Ring. If Aragorn had a best friend in the entire world, then Legolas would have surely been it and to lose another close friend after Gandalf and Frodo had left for the Undying Lands was more painful than the king would like to admit.

"I do not see that I have any other choice, he is the King after all," Legolas reminded.

"And you are his son, not his possession," Aragorn countered.

"I have responsibilities at home," Legolas replied but he knew that it was a false statement. Other than ensuring then he was at his father’s beck and call, which was not often when one was a prince, he could be assured that most of his time would be spent trying to find something to do.

"You have responsibilities to yourself first," Aragorn declared, aware that Legolas could be too noble for his own good. "Do you know what your trouble is, elf?"

Legolas stiffened for Aragorn did not refer to him as such unless he was about to impart to him some uncomfortable insight that was probably for his own good, even if he did not wish to hear it.

"You are more like your father than you would admit," Aragorn declared firmly. "You do not wish to inherit your kingdom, you want to earn it. Perhaps you should think about that."

Legolas flinched uncomfortably because as always, Aragorn’s observations had not only been astute but utterly correct. He did feel as if Mirkwood was merely his home, not a place that he wanted to rule as its master. He wanted to build something, just as Gimli was now doing in the Glittering Caves and Aragorn was doing with the Re-unified Kingdom. It was probably the first time he had ever confessed to himself even that he had held such desires and yet now that he had admitted it to himself, what was he to do about it? It seemed he had opened one door to find another one just as closed to him.

"Even if you are right," the elven prince replied, "one does not simply go out and win themselves a kingdom. It comes of fortune and opportunity."

"There are things that are set forth by destiny even before you are born and then there are moments when you must shape your own fate, despite the portents and omens that say you should act otherwise. Do not remain chained to duty Legolas, it can break the spirit if it is not what you desire." Aragorn said earnestly, squeezing the elf’s shoulder in order to show him how serious he was of this. As much as he loathed Legolas returning to Mirkwood, he feared the elf resigning himself to an unhappy fate when it was clear what he needed to do.

"You are right," Legolas sighed heavily. "I will go back to Mirkwood but only to tell my father that I wish to build for myself. I think it is time."

"You have no idea where to begin do you?" The king gave him a wicked smile.

"Not in the slightest," the elf grinned, feeling a little better now that he had spoken to Aragorn and the two men laughed like boys indulging in mischief.

"Come on Legolas," Aragorn led him out of the garden. "We should join the others."

"Yes," Legolas replied, still somewhat surprised that he had forgotten the time so completely.

Arwen had chosen to celebrate the new year by inviting all her friends to the White City to partake in a small celebration that would be exclusive for those she considered her family. Now that Elrond and most of the elves were departing Middle earth, she had more need of such gatherings. Legolas suspected it was a way to keep her loved ones close and considering that it was difficult to leave the city, the more her child grew within her, he could understand her need to have them visit.

The Lord and Lady of Ithilien were in attendance as well as Gimli who had returned to the city to continue work on the gates of Minas Tirith, leaving Lorin behind. Dwarf women once settled, preferred to remain at home and leave the travelling to their husbands. The hobbits unfortunately had business to attend at home and had declined to attend because the journey from the Shire to the White City required almost two weeks of travelling. Although disappointed, Aragorn and Arwen understood the reasons for their absence and it had not been quite that long since they had all seen each other at the parting of Gandalf and Frodo to the Undying Lands.

"I must confess Legolas, I came seeking you for another reason other than your father’s message," Aragorn replied as they took the familiar path to the palace walls.

"Really?" Legolas gazed at the king wondering what it was Aragorn had yet to tell him.

"I thought you would be interested in knowing that Melia has just arrived," Aragorn answered, trying to control the smile that was trying to escape his lips.

Gimli had given him and the rest of the Fellowship, word by word descriptions of Legolas’ banter with the lovely Ranger during their journey to Mithlond following their trials in Nargothrond. The lady had departed shortly after arriving at Mithlond, eager to return to her duties in Angmar, giving none of them any inkling that she and Legolas had been anything more than travelling companions. It explained something of why the elf seemed more somber than usual when they had all journeyed home.

Legolas’ expression was as stone.

"Melia is here?" He asked feigning casual interest.

"Yes," Aragorn nodded seriously even though his eyes were dancing with amusement at the elf’s efforts to remain indifferent to the news. "Arwen wanted her to join the celebration after all, she considers Melia a true friend after aiding her in her quest."

"I suppose a Ranger has little choice but to accept an invitation given by the Queen," Legolas remarked trying to hide from Aragorn that the news was the best he could have received at this time, especially in light of his father’s calls for his return home. Besides, how the Prince of Mirkwood felt towards any lady was his own business. There were some things he would share with no one, even a trusted friend such as Aragorn. After all, he did not recall Aragorn being any more forthcoming about his feelings before his marriage to Arwen.

"She looks well," Aragorn stated casually. "Though one wonders why a woman would chose such a life for herself."

"You chose it," Legolas shifted his gaze towards the king in accusation.

"I chose it for it was a means to an end but I sense it is not that way with her," Aragorn mused. He had little chance to know Melia before leaving their company all those months ago but she seemed to him, distant with thoughts behind her eyes that no one but she could comprehend.

"Yes," Legolas knew exactly of what he was speaking for he had seen it in her eyes and he understood all to well what she craved because he felt it lately as well.

The need to belong to something or someone.

* * *

Melia gazed at herself in the mirror of the suite of rooms she had been assigned in the palace and wondered how long it was since she stood gazing at her reflection and preparing herself for a celebration. With sadness, she realised that it was well before her father had died. Following his death on the battlefield, her life had been one hard turn after the other. She regretted none of it of course because as difficult as her life had been since she was forced to flee the Sunlands, it was still  _her_  life and she alone had the power to shape her destiny.

Still, staring at her reflection, seeing not the Ranger but the woman in the one dress that she had kept hidden beneath all the practical things in her saddle bags, Melia could not help but think there was a stranger gazing back at her. The dress was simple, a blue shift that clung too tightly at the bodice and seemed to drape over her hands in elvish fashion. She had bought it when she had been travelling near the valley where Rivendell was meant to be, from a peddler who had made his trade tailoring garments copied from the fashions he had seen worn by the elves. She had no idea why she bought it for it was such a frivolous thing but she liked its color that reminded her of the sea she had sailed to reach Gondor when she had first fled from home.

It had remained almost forgotten in her saddlebag, kept because of its colour and because she remembered fondly the days when news would reach the tribe of the battle won and she would dress in her best, awaiting the return of her father from the front. Those days seemed so far away that there were times when Melia wondered if they had happened to some other girl for who she was now could not imagine that she had ever been so young.

When the invitation to join this gathering had reached her, Melia wondered why she had been offered such a grand gesture from the Queen of Gondor. True, they had experienced some extraordinary things during their adventure in Nargothrond but as a Ranger it had been her duty to aid the Queen. It was fortunate that both the Lady of Ithilien and the Queen of the Reunified Lands were merely of noble stock but also of disposition, however, Melia was not so presumptuous as to believe that the friendship they had extended her would last beyond the quest. After leaving them at Grey Havens, Melia had honestly never expected to hear from either again.

Thus it was to her complete astonishment when the Captain of the Rangers in Angmar had sought her out and present to her the request for her attendance at the celebration of elvish New Year in Minas Tirith. What was even more astonishing to her was the fact that this was not a holiday celebrated by the Gondorians and the gathering she was invited to was for the Queen’s personal companions. When she had arrived at the palace, she half expected to be told that it was a terrible mistake but then she was brought to the queen and greeted with open arms. Suddenly Melia was filled with more emotion than she had ever thought herself capable of feeling when she felt the warmth in that embrace.

They said that the Evenstar was the fairest maid of the day. Melia wondered if they knew her beauty was surpassed only by the kindness of her heart.

As Melia adjusted the gown upon her body, she pinned back her dark hair and hoped that she was suitable for the company she would be joining tonight. However, each time she glanced at the mirror, she was startled by who she saw there. The woman in the mirror did not look like a Ranger. When one wore breeches and spent most of one’s time riding through the wilderness, becoming a non person with neither identity nor gender, it was disconcerting to be reminded that she was once Melia, daughter of Hezare, War Master to the Tribe of Bor, not simply Melia the Ranger.

It was almost to her relief when she heard the door behind her. The sound of knuckles rapping against the thick wooden door had the power to snatch her away from her anxious thoughts and sent her hurrying to answer it. She had no idea what customs and protocols she needed to adhere to whilst in the Royal Court of Gondor so she was not eager to be rude by leaving her visitor to languish outside her door.

"Melia!" Eowyn burst into the room as soon as Melia had opened the door wide enough and embraced the startled Ranger in a warm hug of joy and friendship.

"Eowyn," Melia replied, still rather overwhelmed by the warm reception she was receiving.

"My goodness," Eowyn exclaimed, staring at the Ranger wearing a dress. "Now I can see why so many were shocked when I discarded my breeches for a dress. You look most enchanting."

"I feel as if I should be better armed," Melia retorted, remembering that Eowyn had a dry wit and would appreciate the humor.

Eowyn laughed and took her hand, leading her to the chairs in the room so that they could talk. Like Arwen, Eowyn had not forgotten how Melia had risked her life to aid them in the quest to Nargothrond. Though she claimed she was duty bound to aid the Queen of Gondor, they knew better and had taken her to their hearts. The quest to fight Glaurung had bonded them in the way the Fellowship had been forged and though Melia seemed amazed by it all, Arwen and Eowyn had never considered it otherwise. Besides, there were not many women that Eowyn knew personally with whom she could speak of riding into battle and swordplay that did not think that such action was wholly inappropriate for the Lady of Ithilien.

"How have you been?" Eowyn asked as they nestled comfortably into the wing chairs.

"I have been well, though life does not vary much for a Ranger. We ride, we watch and we report what is important to those in authority," Melia explained.

"And how goes your search for your mother?" Eowyn inquired, remembering Melia had set aside her own quest in order to help them.

Melia let out a disappointed sigh before responding. "I am afraid that I have found little evidence of her. Wherever she and her people disappeared, they hid well for I have spoken to no one who has even heard of her."

"You will find her," Eowyn said firmly, with more confidence then Melia felt.

"I know," Melia smiled, grateful for the gesture. "Now, how about yourself? How have you and your husband been?"

"Faramir and I fare well. We have spent much of the past months in North Ithilien trying to establish a sizeable settlement there but I fear that we only have resources enough for the north of the land. Not many wish to live so close to Mordor and though I think the king would like to see Ithilien filled with decent folk, I do not think it is possible."

"I understand South Ithilien is just as fertile as the northlands," Melia remarked, knowing something about the local topography of the area.

"It is," Eowyn responded. "I am told that there are great tracks of forests, to rival even that of Fangborn and Mirkwood but forest living is not for men but rather elves."

"They seem to be leaving these shores in greater numbers," Melia pointed. "I have seen many travel through Angmar bound for the Grey Havens."

Both women recalled the great enterprise of shipbuilding that had been taking place in the land during their brief stay when they had been journeying northwards to the Blue Mountains. It had been a tremendous undertaking of the elven smiths, to mobilise themselves like an army to ready more ships then either of them could count, in preparation of First Born’s departure from Middle earth. The time was fast drawing upon them when those who were left behind would begin to question if the Eldar had ever walked among them or were they merely figments of fanciful legend.

"Speaking of elves," Eowyn replied with a coy smile. "Legolas is here."

Melia’s expression was as stone.

"The Prince of Mirkwood is here?" She mused, unwittingly feigning casual interest that was not at all unique in the palace today.

"Yes," Eowyn nodded, having  _also_  heard Gimli’s description to the two’s reaction to each other during the return trip from the Blue Mountains. "Though I fear not for long. I have been told that he has been summoned to Mirkwood by his father King Thranduil."

"Well that is hardly surprising," Melia replied. "If he were my son I would try to keep a tight rein on him as well."

Eowyn chuckled and remarked, "I see you remember him well then."

"He can be difficult to forget when the mood takes him," Melia replied sarcastically, recalling how she had almost taken her bow to him when they traveled together. He had taken the concept of being a gentleman beyond the parameters of its intended use, Melia was certain. She could not understand how he could see her as a Ranger and yet be completely unprepared to recognize that she was more than capable of fending for herself.

"Are we speaking of the same, polite elf?" Eowyn cocked a brow at the Ranger.

"Are we speaking of  _a_  polite elf?" Melia returned her gaze with an equally mischievous expression.

Eowyn laughed and Melia joined her before the conversation regarding the Prince of Mirkwood deteriorated even further.

"It is time we join the gathering," Eowyn prompted their departure. "Arwen thought you might prefer a friendly face to accompany you to the hall instead of a serving girl. We will talk more tonight."

"I am grateful for your company," Melia did not lie in admitting that Arwen was extremely correct about that assertion and she made a mental note to thank the queen when in her presence again and hoped the rest of the evening would transpire as smoothly.

"Melia," Eowyn remarked, seeing the anxiety in her eyes she was trying hard not to reveal. "Arwen asked you to this gathering because she wanted to see  _all_  her friends and that includes you. There is nothing to be afraid of."

Melia nodded but at this moment she was so nervous about the illustrious gathering she would be attending that she would rather be facing orcs.

* * *

"Did you miss me?" A familiar voice spoke so close to her ear that she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She and Eowyn had just entered the corridor leading towards the great hall when she felt the movement behind her.

Melia sucked in her breath and replied sweetly, perfectly aware of whom had asked the question. "Like the pox."

"Are you saying you will never be cured of me?" Legolas asked as he rounded the two women and stood before Melia, smirking.

Eowyn rolled her eyes and started to see what Gimli was talking about. " _Prince_  Legolas, I take it you remember Melia?"

"Vaguely," Legolas shrugged, a little smile crossing lips as his eyes continued to stare at Melia. "Though I am certain that it was a scruffy Ranger I traveled with, not this woman," his eyes moved over her form, indicating the gown.

"I remember you," Melia retorted, feeling uncomfortable enough in these clothes without this elven aristocrat making her feel more self-conscious. "You were that annoying little puppy that kept tugging at my heels. I thought I had succeeded in leaving you alone in that glade in the hopes you would not find your way home."

"It is good to see that Gimli was not exaggerating," Eowyn retorted, shaking her head while she drew away from them both in order to keep from becoming caught in their sparring match. "I leave you to your verbal fencing. If you two can rest your bladed tongues for long enough, join us in the hall. I do believe the Queen is waiting."

Neither spoke until Eowyn had gone and despite his earlier calls to himself to keep from falling into old patterns when around her, that resolve had crumbled the instant Legolas had laid eyes upon her. She was just as he remembered but the dress had taken his breath away even though he hid it well. She had been a diamond in the rough when they had first encountered each other. He could see her loveliness but it was secondary to her will and her wit, which he found very similar to his own. However, this was the first time he had seen how truly female she was and it had robbed him of the sense to crush the feelings he knew could only be a mistake.

"Would you let me escort you?" He asked, offering her his arm.

"Now you are behaving like a gentlemen?" She stared at him, wondering what was to be done with this impossible elf.

"Well a moment ago I was pox," he pointed out. "It requires a few seconds for me to rise above that distinction."

"You are quite impossible," she broke into a smile and linked her arm through his before they started walking again. Despite herself, Melia found that he was good company, when he was not being quite so infuriating.

"I can assure you, I do not suffer that affliction alone," he grinned before his tone became more serious. "How have you been?"

"I think I preferred you impossible," Melia retorted and softened a little because his inquiry was sincere. "I have been well. I hear you are bound for home."

He stiffened only slightly but enough for Melia to know that he was not happy about that fact and she wondered why a Prince would dislike returning to his realm?

"Yes," he nodded slowly. "My father requires me home and I have been away for far too long. It is time."

"Does that not make you happy?" She asked pointedly. She knew not how to be subtle with him. Their relationship had never allowed them to endure the tentative steps of walking around each other’s feelings. In some sense, it was good that they could be brutally honest with each other.

"No," he shook his head. "Not as much as I should be."

A pregnant pause followed as she debated what she should say to him. It was far simpler dealing with the Prince of Mirkwood when they were trading barbs and insults but seeing him visibly unhappy like this bothered her more than it should have.

"Perhaps you should go home only to visit," Melia suggested. "It would satisfy your father’s desire to see you and then go on your way again."

"I have considered something else," Legolas admitted. "When I have thought it through, I will tell my father."

"Good," she smiled, genuinely pleased that he had some other course left to him. When her father had died, she had none and she never took for granted the right to choose one’s destiny.

"What of you Melia?" Legolas looked at her, realising that he knew little about her. Obviously she had come from the lands of the Haradrim but the race was not known to depart its borders unless it was to make war on their enemies. "How does an Easterling find her way so far from the lands of her birth?"

"When she had even less choices than you," Melia replied without thinking.

His brow knotted, not at all liking the sound of that. Was she driven from her home for some reason? "What do you mean?"

Melia frowned, rebuking herself inwardly at her lapse but then deciding that she could tell him little for he would no doubt plague her until she revealed the meaning of her words. "In the Sunlands, a woman has no choice in who she is to wed. Marriage is arranged by family and so it was done with me. My father had died and his family believed that it was time that I was betrothed. The choice was not mine and I had no wish for marriage so I fled."

"Could you have not simply refused?" Legolas asked, finding the action of forcing a woman into marriage to some man she could not endure to be rather barbaric.

"In the Sunlands, a woman may not refuse a man or a proposal of marriage arranged by her family," Melia said with a sigh. "My father had spared me from such traditions because he did not wish a loveless marriage for me but once he died there was no stopping such an arrangement from being made by my relatives. Leaving was the only course left to me."

"That is a sad tale," Legolas replied as they continued to the great hall. "But I supposed you ought to be grateful," he remarked, casting her a sidelong glance as he spoke.

"Grateful?" she looked at him.

"If you did not find this suitor so terribly unacceptable, you would never have left to meet me and where would the joy have been in your world then?" That damnable smile on his face again.

"You  _are_  impossible," she shook her head.

"But you know I am right," he grinned.

"I do not have to admit that," Melia responded and yet found herself entwining her arm deeper into his.

* * *

Although the gathering took place in the great hall of the palace, the proceedings were surprisingly informal with only the handful of people in attendance, all of which Arwen and Aragorn considered their good friends. Chief among the attendants were the members of the Fellowship, the Lord and Lady of Ithilien and Melia herself. Until now, she had not realised how much of an honor it was to be considered a friend of the Queen for it appeared that she was in select company. It was the first time in too long that she had been a part of any celebration where she was welcomed at the table. For as long as she remembered, her lineage had made her an outcast even among her family who showed their anger at her mother’s abandonment of her father on her.

"Melia, were your accommodations suitable?" Arwen, Queen of Gondor asked when she saw Melia and Legolas enter the room. Arwen was in her fifth month of pregnancy and the growing babe inside her could be seen by the swell of her body. Melia wondered if it was possible for the woman to appear lovelier than she had been. She was already a great beauty but she really did possess the glow of radiance common to women with child. It was no wonder that the king could only look upon his wife with eyes of adoration.

"Luxurious in comparison to what I am accustomed to," Melia confessed.

"Come now, Arwen," Aragorn joined them. "Melia is a Ranger. We spend most of our time in the wilderness, as long as it is dry and safe, we can sleep anywhere."

"And yet she manages to look less bedraggled than you," Arwen teased. "I remember your state when you returned to Imladris from the wilderness."

Aragorn gave his wife a wounded look, "it was because I was making haste to return to you Undomiel. If I stopped for even one moment to groom myself, it was one moment too long that I was kept away from you. I could not endure even that slightest delay." Aragorn flashed his wife a look of pure innocence that drew laughter from everyone present.

"Nicely done," Arwen stared at him, not believing him for a second but impressed by the sly weaving of words he had produced to extricate himself from embarrassment.

Appearing completely unrepentant, the king smiled proudly at his wife before responding, "diplomacy has taught me much."

"In any case I thank you for your hospitality," Melia remarked once husband and wife had completed their private joke. "My room will be a luxury I shall enjoy until I have to return to Angmar."

"How goes it there?" Aragorn asked, always interested in how things were transpiring in the rest of his kingdom. As a former Ranger, he knew perfectly well that a Ranger’s duties involved being the eyes and ears to whatever king they served. He could be assured of accurate intelligence from her.

"It goes well. The orcs have decreased in numbers and their raiding parties are sporadic," she answered, remembering now that he was not Aragorn but King Elessar and behaved accordingly. "They are being driven further into Forodwaith by local militia as well as the Rangers. I do not think it will be that long before we are no longer troubled by them at all."

"That is good to know," Aragorn nodded. "Middle earth has been blighted long enough by their evil. I think there will be pockets of their race emerging from time to time but it pleases me that we are making some headway."

"Which is more than I can say of Ithilen," Faramir added his voice in the discussion. "There are orcs there in greater numbers."

"Its is unfortunate," Legolas replied. He knew that there had been border skirmishes with northern Ithilien and had taken part in some of the campaigns to eradicate them but they seem to withdraw into the southern lands. "The forests there are vast and there are many places for them to hide."

"What is needed there is settlement," Aragorn remarked. "If more people were willing to dwell there, the orcs could be driven away. However, those lands are too near Mordor for the comfort of most."

"It is a difficult choice," Eowyn commented. "To risk attack from orcs or whatever dangers may still lie in Mordor."

"I doubt there is anything left after we were done with it," Gimli said enthusiastically. "The War of the One Ring decided Sauron’s fate once and for all."

"I would not be so quick to dismiss the dark powers that were once of  _that_  land," Arwen replied. "Evil of such power is extremely hard to kill. For all we know, our future progeny may suffer for something we did not finish."

No one could argue with her on that point after what they had experienced with Glaurung. If anything had reminded them that not all evils had been vanquished with Sauron, it was the presence of the dragon that had emerged straight from the pits of Angaband when Melkor still warred with the Valar. No doubt there were other threats, beyond orcs that were lying hidden, waiting for the right moment to wreak mischief upon them all. However, none of them were too eager to speak of such possibilities when the reason for their gathering was an occasion of celebration.

Despite this desire, however, Legolas found that their conversation about Ithilien and the vast southern forests being unoccupied inspiring something of an idea within him. Although he spoke nothing of that idea to his friends since there were numerous obstacles ahead of him, he could not help feeling the fire of excitement at what might be possible if he was able to surmount it. It bore further investigation before he could even consider it seriously but it was the first spark of hope he had felt since Thranduil’s message had come from Mirkwood. Even though he was a great deal older than Aragorn, the elf had to begrudgingly admit that Aragorn had been correct about his situation.

Legolas  _did_  have to find his own way and seize the opportunity when it came to create something of his own.

It appeared that chance might come sooner than either of them believed.

* * *

The evening transpired with much merriment as the meal was served and Melia forgot that she was in the presence of King Elessar Telecontari and his lovely queen, Arwen Evenstar. It was hard to see him as the leader of the Reunified Kingdom when he had such a dry wit, a love of life and more intelligence than was usually customary for a man of his station. It also warmed her heart to see the adoration he held in his eyes for his wife for it had been clear to Melia when he had sought them out in Nargothrond, just how far he would travel for his beloved Undomiel. Arwen was equally smitten and the love they held for one another was like a bright beacon to all those in their presence. The King’s love for his wife was almost equaled by his affection for his friends.

The others were equally relaxed even though they had been party to great events of their time. Faramir who had been a Ranger of Ithilien still bore the marks of that vocation just as Aragorn. He would always be a Ranger at heart, even though he was now Lord of the land that he had once sought to protect and defend. His manner though not as overpowering as Aragorn’s, was a quiet kind of strength and in comparison to Eowyn’s headstrong and often fiery disposition, he was the perfect foil to her heated temperament. They suited each other well.

Of the men, it was perhaps Gimli she knew the best. He was the first dwarf she had ever met and during the journey to Mithlond when the urge to strangle Legolas was so intense she needed to stay well away from the elf, there had been time to know the Lord of the Glittering Caves. She found that she liked Gimli a great deal for the dwarf was astonishingly practical and when he examined her crossbow, had come out with all sorts of interesting ideas on how she might hone the shape of the bolts she used in them, to perfect her aim. They spoke of the lands from which he came and the wonders to be found deep beneath the earth. He spoke something of the lady that he had waiting for him in the Glittering Caves and Melia was pleased to learn during the course of the evening that he had married Lorin when he returned home.

The only thing she did not understand was how he had managed to become such good friends with an elf. She knew from experience that the two races disliked each other intensely for reasons that were more than just sociological and cultural. The elves preferred to live with nature whereas the dwarves liked to shape it to suit, to make it better and profit from it at the same time. However, none of these differences seemed to come into play when Gimli and Legolas were concerned and she wondered how she could get along so well with one while the other seemed to vex her beyond reason.

When the party had disbanded, Melia found that she could not sleep. Being a Ranger ensured that she could exist on little sleep and so far, the day had not been so taxing that her energy was exhausted. The business of dining with friends in a great hall was far less work than roaming the wild, keeping watch for every sound and movement for to ignore it was to do so at one’s own peril. Thus she found herself wandering the gardens, enjoying the sight of greenery under the pale moonlight of the twilight sky. She had become so accustomed to sleeping under the stars that too long within walls made her uncomfortable and surrounded by this freedom would settle her unease a little for her slumber this evening.

Still, in general her mood was good because for the first time in too long, she had found friends who were noble and true, who knew what she was and had no words of reproach for her manner. Not since her father’s passing had she felt such acceptance and though she knew she would soon have to return to the wilds once more, it was good to know that for awhile at least, she would have them. Melia followed the path until she reached the marble fountain with its ornate sculptures. She stood there watching the reflection of the full moon upon its water and was lost in the beauty of the cascading water.

"You should not be wandering the grounds alone," his voice slipped out of the darkness almost like a shadow.

Melia let out an exasperated sigh, folding her arms in impatience as Legolas stood up from the stone bench where he had been seated and walked towards her. It appeared as if he had been there for some time and Melia wondered what reason he would have to sit in the darkness like this. During the night, he had shown none of the melancholy that she had seen when he had confessed his reluctance to return home. In fact, the seating arrangement at the table of the king saw them placed side by side and he had been surprisingly pleasant company.

"Please tell me you have not followed me," she asked knowing that he did not really but insults were the way they greeted each other and it was a comfortable icebreaker.

"Oh yes," Legolas gave her a sarcastic look. "I sat here in the vain hopes that you would happen to walk this way instead of a dozen different paths that crisscross these gardens.," he said with exaggerated dramatics when he reached her.

The Prince of Mirkwood ensured that he stood at arm’s length from her. As much as she might think herself unlike other women, there were customs and conventions that Legolas had been raised with that he was not about to abuse, no matter who the lady in question.

"I deserve that," Melia threw up her hands in defeat, laughing as she did so. "Really, why are you out here?"

There was real concern in her voice, Legolas noticed.

"I could not sleep and I think better with the stars above me." He answered after a moment and glanced briefly at the myriad twinkling of stars in the indigo canvas before meeting her gaze again. "But always in my heart was the thought that maybe you were here as well." He added with a smile.

"I’m sure," Melia rolled her eyes. "How fortunate you are that I chose this path and decided to end your misery."

Legolas uttered a short laugh and stared at her, "what is it about you that brings a lilt to my heart?"

"Your enjoyment of rejection," she retorted. "And your misguided belief that I need protecting."

"Well it is hard to see you as a Ranger when you wear a dress," he returned. "I do not know what shocks me more, that you look lovely wearing a dress or that you have one at all."

Melia glared at him through narrowed eyes, "tell me Prince of Mirkwood, were you always blessed with a silver tongue or has it taken time to acquire the skill?"

"Three millennia of practice actually," he responded, enjoying their verbal sparring intensely. He sincerely had not expected to find her here when he had come here after the celebration had drawn to a close. He was true to his word when he explained that his thoughts about his future would come easier to him if he had the cloak of the stars above his head. However, he could not deny that he enjoyed this fencing match they seemed to participate in whenever they were together. "Am I not sweeping you off your feet?"

"You could not sweep me off my feet even if you had a broom," Melia declared.

He pretended to suck in his breath as if he had been gripped with pain, "you are harsh with me lady. Did I tell you that I enjoy that?"

"You have no shame," Melia turned away. "I will leave you to your thoughts before you say anything that will require me slapping you in feminine outrage."

"A lady should never wander about without an escort." He called out to her, unable to resist teasing her as she glided away from him towards the palace again.

"And when I find a suitable one, I will be sure to ask for him his assistance," she returned sweetly before disappearing into the darkness, leaving Legolas with a corresponding smile on his face.

* * *

When Melia returned to her room, she was rather surprised to find that Arwen was awaiting her. Melia found the queen seated on the same chair that she had greeted Eowyn in earlier.

"My queen, is there something wrong?" Melia asked, wondering what could warrant Arwen’s presence in her room at so late an hour.

"Nothing is wrong," Arwen quickly assured her, aware of how self-conscious Melia felt at being in the palace. In the woods it had been simple, she, Eowyn and Melia had been on a quest, equal parts to an important triumvirate. Here in Minas Tirith, that dynamic was no more. She was Queen and no matter how much Melia or even Eowyn for that matter tried, they would never be able to forget that. "I came to your door and entered when I realized that you were not in your room."

"I am sorry," Melia apologized. "I have difficulty sleeping indoors and thought a walk might help my slumber this evening."

"As is your right as my guest," Arwen smiled beckoning her to sit down so that they could talk. "I did not mean to impose upon you Melia but I wanted to speak with you about an important matter."

"I am at your service as always, my queen." Melia replied sincerely and meant it. Arwen had extended a hand of friendship that she never dreamed possible and whatever the queen asked of her, it would never be enough.

"Then call me Arwen, as you did when we were fellow travelers," Arwen implored.

"As you wish," Melia nodded, trying to rise to the friendship this noble woman was offering her. "Arwen."

"Good," Arwen smiled, glad that formality was dispensed with. "Melia, I had reason other than this celebration for bringing you to the White City."

Melia’s brow arched with interest. "You did?"

"Yes," Arwen nodded slowly. "For your consideration and your invaluable assistance to me and my babe, I wanted to do something for you when I returned to Minas Tirith."

"I do not require a reward," Melia started to say when Arwen cut her off.

"I know that," the queen replied. "However, I thought that I might aid you in your own quest since you were gracious enough to ensure that I survived mine."

"I do not understand," Melia looked at her in confusion.

"Let me ask you one thing first," Arwen stared back. "Who exactly was your mother?’

Melia swallowed, not anticipating having this conversation today, however, Arwen was asking her question for good reason and Melia felt bound to answer. After a lengthy pause, Melia finally spoke. "I am not sure. I know her name but little else. My father claimed she called herself a River Woman but since I have begun my search, I have made little headway in deciphering what that is exactly."

"I have heard the term before," Arwen met her gaze and replied.

"You have?" Melia’s jaw dropped in shock. Finally, after all these years of searching, someone who had the answer she sought! It was almost too good to be true! "You know them?"

"No," Arwen shook her head. "I know  _of_  them. They were supposedly Maiar or sprites who served Ulmo, the Lord of the Waters."

"Maiar?" Melia’s shock continued to grow. Was she some kind of a river daughter? Like the legendary Goldberry who was supposed to inhabit the Old Woods? "My mother was a Maiar?"

"It has never been truly discovered what they are though they are known to take lovers for a time. Men seem to suit their purposes best for they are not immortal and they are somewhat disposable," Arwen tried to explain it as kindly as possible but there were some truths that were simply unavoidable. "Before my grandmother, the Lady of the Lothlorien departed for the Western Shores, I asked if she knew anything about the River Women along the Anduin, particularly of one named Ninuie."

"And?" Melia asked, her voice hushed as is she dared not speak too loudly for fear of ruining the revelation.

"Galadriel knew nothing of Ninuie," Arwen replied and saw Melia’s crestfallen expression before continuing. "However, prior to the War of the Ring, Dol Guldur was occupied by the Nazgul and they used that terrible place to commit all manner of atrocities against Lothlorien and Woodland Realm. It is believed that the Nazgul may have captured and killed the River Women in their dungeons."

Melia said nothing for a moment because her heart was turning into stone and threatening to shatter. She would have wept at the unfairness of it, the cruel trickery of fate that would allow her to come so far and search so long only to be met by this unhappy conclusion but she could not. She could not because she knew that Arwen was wrong. Perhaps some of the River Women were killed in Dol Guldur, she had no doubt of that intelligence especially when the source was Galadriel but she knew her mother was not among the dead.

"Not my mother," Melia whispered after a while. Her eyes closed when she answered, "my mother is not dead."

Arwen took her denial to be borne of frustration and grief and sought the right words to speak that would not cause Melia any more sorrow than she already felt. "Melia, you must face the possibility. I have come face to face with the Nazgul. They were beyond darkness. They existed in shadow and every waking thought of their existence was to serve Sauron in any way possible. The River Women were possibly Maiar or at the very least servants of Ulmo. The Nazgul would have been compelled to destroy them, lest they chose to aid the forces of light against their master."

"I do not doubt your words," Melia blinked and stared at Arwen again. "I believe you and the Lady of the Wood in the assertion that many of the River Women were killed but my mother was not one of the dead."

"How can you be so certain of this?" Arwen asked, starting to understand that her denial of what was almost certainly the truth, may have some foundation other than her stubborn refusal to believe.

"I simply know," Melia replied, reaching for Arwen’s hands and holding them entwined in hers. For the first time, she really did feel like Arwen’s friend and she loved the Evenstar dearly for the inquiries made on her behalf from the Lady of the Wood but she could not believe that Ninuie was dead.

"You must trust me in this. I know that she lives and thanks to you, I now have a place to begin my search, a place that is more than just words spoken by reports I cannot substantiate or arrived to me by mere rumor. I must go to Dol Goldur."

"Dol Goldur!" Arwen exclaimed, never intending to send Melia to that dark place when she had sought this audience. "There is nothing there! It has been cleansed of all evil since the death of Sauron and the end of the war."

"If the River Women were there once, then that is where I must go," Melia said firmly. "It is a place to start."

"How can you be so sure that she still lives?" Arwen asked.

Melia did not answer but inwardly, she responded to the queen in a wordless answer.

She knew because she could still hear her mother’s torment in her dreams.


	3. Traveling Companions

She should have known this would happen.

The queen of Gondor cursed herself for being a fool for not anticipating this reaction when she gave Melia the news that her mother might have perished at DolGuldur. The race of men could be notoriously stubborn when their mind was set upon a course. She should have suspected by Aragorn’s fine example of this both irritating and admired trait of his race. Why should Melia be any different? The woman had spent years searching for her mother,  _years_! Of course she would deny all that effort was for nothing by persisting in the belief that her mother still lived.  Arwen could not begin to imagine what it must be like to find that the reason for one’s purpose in life had suddenly disappeared before one’s eyes. Everything that Melia was since arriving in Middle Earth from Far Harad was defined by her search for her mother. If that search was over, what was left for her?

Unfortunately, Arwen’s understanding of the situation did not alter the unacceptable turn it had taken. Melia’s determination to journey to Dol Guldur was folly. Even now, the woods of Mirkwood were not entirely safe. The Woodland Realm had been purged of many of its former evils but forests were enormous and in their shadows, ancient creatures most assuredly remained hidden as long as they were not provoked into emerging. As far as she knew, Melia knew little of Mirkwoodother than its existence and for her to attempt to journey through its forests with little knowledge of what awaited her there was sheer recklessness. Arwen argued these points strenuously following Melia’s declaration of her intent to leave for Dol Guldur, however the Ranger would not be swayed.

She retired from Melia’s room, pondering what was to be done about this since she would feel herself responsible if any harm were to befall the Ranger should she insist on the trip to Dol Guldur. Save for asking Aragorn to order her not to go or imprison her in a dungeon which could only result in the Ranger becoming fugitive, since she was not likely to obey, Arwen could think of nothing else to prevent disaster from occurring. She thought long and hard what she ought to do, remaining awake most of the night, as she was certain Melia was as well, thinking of what was to be done. The Ranger had confessed her desire to leave right away so Arwen did not even have the benefit of time to ponder what was to be done. Aragorn noted her anxiety through the twilight hours and though he asked of her the reason for her restlessness, Arwen could not bring herself to betray her confidence.

The solution however, when it finally came to Arwen was painfully obvious.

Or it should have been if she were a more presumptuous person than she was. With the answer in her head, Arwen had arisen early that morning, having made Meliapromise her the night before not to leave the White City without first informing her queen of her departure. Fortunately, the Ranger was still bound by duty to her queen to obey Arwen’s request, despite their friendship. Thus was the reason that Arwen now found herself making her way to the stables, hoping to intercept the Prince of Mirkwood before he embarked upon his morning ride. She knew Legolas cared for the Ranger in some fashion but she did not make light of it as the rest of the company because she knew him long enough to know he was not prone to making attachments lightly.

Especially when the possible object of his affections was a human.

Because of her lineage, being hybrid of elf and man, Arwen had a choice in how she would live out her life. She had chosen a mortal life to be with Aragorn and it was not a decision she ever regretted, even in the face of the massive departures from these shores of the elves. However, Legolas was a full-blooded son of the First Born. There was no choice for him and like all elves; he would mate but once for all time. In the light of that kind of finality, it was no wonder that he had remained unmarried or unclaimed by any female, elven or human in nearly three thousand years of his life. There had been a time in her youth that her father Elrond had considered a match with the fair Prince of Mirkwood, but they saw each other too much like brother and sister to ever feel the passion of romantic love.

Ever since he had been visiting in Minas Tirith, Arwen knew it was Legolas’ habit to ride out of the city for a few hours. He was, by his very nature, a Woodland elf and though he was reluctant to return home for reasons of his own, he still needed to feel the air of the forest around him as frequently as possible. The few hours where he was allowed to explore the wilds around the White City was more than enough to satisfy this need, though Arwen was certain that even he would pine for Mirkwood after too long a period away from it. She entered the stable and found him saddling his steed Arod, the horse that had been presented to him by the King of the Mark in the first days of the War of the Ring. Since then, Arod traveled with him everywhere.

"Legolas," Arwen called out to the Prince in elvish. When they were alone, they often reverted to their native language. He was gently brushing down Arod’s flank and looked up at her at her call.

"You awaken early my lady," Legolas stopped what he was doing and bow gently at her in greeting. "I thought I was the only one who chooses to arise at this hour."

It was early but Arwen was elven like him and she too awoke with the dawn. It was a habit that she was unable to discard since leaving Imladris where everyone awoke with the sunrise. In Minas Tirith however, it was beneficial to Arwen to continue her early rising, for as queen, it allowed her to gain more from her day.

"It serves me to have more hours in my day," she responded with a smile.

"Will you join me this morning for a ride?" He asked politely. In their youth, they rode a great deal together and he knew her to be an even better horsewoman than Aragorn. There were not many maidens, elven or human who could out pace the Nazgul.

"I wish that I could," Arwen sighed, thinking that there was nothing nicer than a morning ride. "Unfortunately, I do not think I am allowed," she explained patting her swelling abdomen lightly. "He makes demands of me already."

"He is his father’s son," Legolas gave her a warm smile, thinking how radiant she appeared with her babe’s glow throughout her.

"True," Arwen nodded, giving him no argument on that particular statement. "I have reason for seeking you out this morning Legolas, I need your aid."

"Indeed?" The archer’s brow crooked upwards. "I am at your service as always, Evenstar."

"You are a good friend," she reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I fear I have done something foolish and now I have set events into motion I cannot stop."

"What do you mean?" His tone became serious and one could very well believe that he would one day be the future king of Mirkwood when he gazed upon her with such intent.

"I may have unwittingly given Melia reason to travel to Dol Guldur," Arwen explained somewhat embarrassed still, that she had not considered that her revelation to Melia would result in this.

"Dol Guldur?" Legolas exclaimed, his surprise was as evident as his horror. "Why in the name of Arda, would she wish to go there?"

Arwen hesitated, debating whether or not she should break Melia’s confidence and knew even as the thought crossed her mind at revealing the truth to Legolas that she could not. "I cannot tell you Legolas, I promised her I would not."

Legolas opened his mouth to protest but Arwen continued speaking before he could utter a word.

"She has good reason Legolas, that is all you need to know and nothing will keep her from it, not an order from Aragorn to desist, nothing. I know her determination in this, she will go there or die trying."

Legolas could not imagine any reason to go to Dol Guldur, whatever the cause. However, Arwen’s reluctance to tell him why brought to light how little he really knew about Melia to begin with. He recalled what she had said about fleeing from Far Harad, to escape a marriage that she did not wish. Had that only been part of the tale?

"Evenstar," he looked at her seriously. "The wilds of Mirkwood and Dol Guldur are not to be taken lightly. For those who have never wandered its paths, it can be deadly. I have lived there all my life, I know what roams those woods."

"That is why I have come to you," Arwen returned his gaze. "You intend on returning home to Mirkwood, do you not?"

"Yes," he said slowly, starting to see where she was going with this line of inquiry and deciding immediately that it was going to cause a great deal of trouble if he was correct about Arwen’s intentions.

"Could you not travel with her to Dol Guldur?" Arwen implored. "If you went with her, you could see to it that she is safe. No one knows its lands as you do."

"Evenstar," he spoke hastily before she could continue further with this idea of hers. "Even if I agree to your request and at this time, I am not saying that I am, there is no way you will be able to convince Melia to accept my aid."

He knew Melia well enough to know that the lady would be extremely averse to his insisting that he join her on this ill-advised journey to Dol Guldur. As much as he teased her about not being able to fend for herself, requiring his constant companionship to keep her protected, he knew otherwise. She was extremely capable. One did not become a Ranger if one did not have one’s wits about them. However, despite that, she was exceedingly stubborn in matters that required her asking for someone’s aid, least of all his. He knew that this was his fault in part but it was a truth that was unchangeable.

"Legolas," she stared at him hard. "In the three millennia that I have known you, I know that you have not looked at a woman the way you look at her. You are like my brother, Prince of Mirkwood and I know your heart. If you care about this woman as much as I think you do, you will find a way to convince her. She cannot go there alone. You need to be with her when she reaches Dol Guldur and finds there what I know she will."

Legolas swallowed hard, turning his eyes away because Arwen could see through him. He was the only son of King Thranduil and he would have spent much of his childhood alone if it had not been for the bright spark that the Evenstar and her brothers had been to him with her friendship with their almost familial bond. He could not deny that he felt something for Melia, something that he did not understand, that frightened him greatly. Remaining on the outskirts of feeling for the Ranger had been harmless enough play but Arwen had brought to light what lay beneath the surface of the gentle mischief that seemed only to surface when Meliawas near.

"Alright," he conceded with a nod, his eyes staring at the stable floor for it was easier than allowing the Evenstar to look into his soul with her sapphire gaze. "I will do as you ask. I will go with her but I tell you now that riding the dragon Smaug bareback would be a far easier task than convincing her."

"You can do it," Arwen offered him an encouraging smile. "I know you can."

"Well," Legolas frowned, not at all sharing her confidence in his ability to convince Melia to accept his help. "You had better let me tell her. In your condition, your skill in evading flying objects is less than mine."

* * *

Melia had not slept the night before.

Her thoughts were too filled with Arwen’s news to be able to close her eyes and drift into slumber. She thought of all the years she had been searching, the clues that led nowhere, the whispers of possibility that ended with disappointment upon learning the search were for nothing. Now here was the first tangible proof she had that her mother existed as more than her father’s memories. Melia had been too young to remember Ninuie and there were times when the goal before her was so far away, she wondered if perhaps she was on a fool’s errand, that this quest she had driven herself to fulfill was an empty one with no end.

All that changed with Arwen’s report that Galadriel herself had known of the River Women. Despite there being no news of her mother specifically, at least now Melia knew that the River Women were real and not some fanciful tale woven by a father wanting to explain to his daughter why her mother had left them both. She had promised Arwen she would not leave without telling the Queen of Gondor that she was departing Minas Tirith. After Arwen’s aid and friendship, not even Melia’s burning desire to fulfill her quest would have her slight the hospitality of so fine a lady. However, Melia did intend to leave the White City before the sun set upon this day.

She had risen early, packed her belongings and tried to discern from the maps she had found in the library of the palace which would be the best way to approach Dol Guldur. Although she had ridden her horse to Gondor, she had no wish to take the animal when it was possible that there would be terrain the mare could not traverse. From what she was able to discern from the parchments before her, the best route to Dol Guldur was by the way of the great Anduin River. By boat, she would be able to travel down its length, pausing only for a day to pass the rushing waters of Rauros Falls before resuming her journey again. If she approached DolGuldur by the Eastern Shore, it would only take her a few days to reach the former Nazgul stronghold. Arwen had claimed that there was nothing in that dark place to find but Melia knew the queen was wrong. She could feel it in her bones.

Within the confines of her room, Melia gazed herself at herself in the mirror and found a more comforting reflection than that woman she had spied in a dress the night before. The Ranger before her feared little, was capable of handling herself in the company of all and never felt an ounce of self-doubt. The Ranger could face whatever terrible outcome her journey to Dol Guldur might yield, far better than that woman in the dress could ever manage. In her heart Melia knew that she hid behind the title. For so long, it protected her against everything, including the loneliness she would admit to no one.

Being the Ranger was far safer than being Melia.

She had come to the decision that there was no reason to delay and turned towards the door in order to find Arwen and thank her for her kindness when it knocked loudly before she could reach it. For an instant, Melia hoped that it was Arwen at her door so that she could carry out her farewells and depart the White City. In truth, a long and involved farewell with the others would simply make her uncomfortable and Melia was eager to begin her journey. She hastened her pace to cease the constant rapping against the wood that by the time she reached for the doorknob had become quite irritating and made her question who would be so impatient.

"Departing so soon?" The Prince of Mirkwood asked when she pulled the door open.

"Yes," Melia nodded; wondering what it was he wanted. Had Arwen told him that she was leaving? Of all the people at her door this morning, why did it have to be him? "A matter of some urgency has arisen, I have to leave immediately."

"What could possibly be so important that a Ranger would deny the hospitality of the queen?" Legolas asked innocently.

"I do not have time to spar with you elf," she retorted and turned on her heels, retreating into the room so that she could retrieve her belongings and continue on her way.

"It would seem so," Legolas nodded following her inside much to Melia’s chagrin.

Melia paused, uncomfortable by his presence and somewhat bewildered as to what he wanted of her. Turning around after retrieving her saddlebags, she faced him once more. "What is it you wish of me, Prince?"

"Why do you not call me Legolas?" he asked suddenly, surprising her with the question.

"Because I would rather call you vexing!" She cried out in exasperation. "What is it you want?"

He straightened up and looked her straight in the eye as if what he wanted to say required him to brace himself for her reaction and Melia guessed immediately, that she was not going to like his words.

"I know you’re going to Dol Guldur," he stated.

Melia let out a sigh of frustration, realizing why Arwen had made her wait and bristled with annoyance at the queen’s subterfuge.

"Yes I am," she answered because he was waiting for her response and appeared as if he would not move from the spot unless she provided one. "Not that it is any of  _your_  concern."

"If you are going to Dol Guldur then it becomes very much a matter of my concern," Legolas declared firmly, refusing to yield anything to her on this point. "That is a dark, dismal place with nothing left to recommend it to anyone. It is a blight upon the land that should be avoided. You court great peril by going there alone."

"That is my choice," Melia replied with just as much determination. "Not yours."

"I am the Prince of Mirkwood, Dol Guldur is part of the Woodland Realm," Legolas stared at her and declared imperiously, "That makes it  _my_  sovereign concern. You will not step one foot into the wood of Mirkwood without encountering my father’s men, that is if what lives there does not chose to make a meal out of your first."

"I will take my chances," she whispered, refusing to show that his words had shaken her as Melia attempted to brush past.

However Legolas was not about to let her abscond so easily. What in Eru’s name was so important that she be so stubborn in her resolve to reach Dol Guldur? He could see the fear in her eyes at his warning but she was still determined to go, despite it. Why? As she attempted to slip past him, Legolas grabbed her arm and stayed her beside him in order to find out.

"I will go with you," he replied gently, hoping that would appease her slightly.

Her eyes flashed in understanding and she pulled away from him fiercely. "Absolutely not!"

"Melia," Legolas stiffened, coming to the conclusion that there would be no compromise with her on this point. "You need me."

"I need nothing from you!" Her eyes blazed at him. "This is not your concern. Arwen had no right to bring you into this!"

"She brought me into this because she cares about you," Legolas flared back in turn, rising to Arwen’s defense. "The queen fears for your life although quite honestly, I cannot imagine why since you are so determine to squander it by this foolish desire of yours!"

He had no wish to be so harsh with her but she needed to understand what awaited her once she entered Dol Guldur and Mirkwood. Legolas had no difficulty in being cruel to be kind because Arwen was right, he cared too much about her to spare her feelings by not speaking the truth she refused to acknowledge. Meliastared back at him; her face wrought with indecision. He guessed that she might be seeing the sense of his words but the person she was made it difficult for her to admit that she might need his assistance.

"Melia," he said gently, "you are no fool and I will not treat you as one. Despite how I may jest that you are unable to fend for yourself, in your heart you know that I do not believe that for an instant but you must trust me in this, Mirkwood is dangerous. I have lived there all my life and I still know caution when I walk the paths that are familiar to me. You cannot enter the wood without permission of the Woodland Elves."

Melia closed her eyes, wanting to refute everything he said but she could not. However, her reasons for objecting so strenuously to him had little to do with her quest and had everything to do with  _him_. For reasons she could not comprehend, this elf made her exceedingly aware of him. It was disquieting and she had no wish to be that way when she was about to embark upon such an important journey. Yet she knew he was right. She knew of  Mirkwood by reputation and if she thought that she could enter its forests without arousing the notice of the Woodland Elves, the undisputed master of that realm, then she was foolish indeed.

As much as she loathed admitting it, she did need the Prince of Mirkwood to be her guide.

"Alright!" She hissed angrily. "We will travel together but you will not get in my way! I mean to go to Dol Guldur one way or another! I would prefer it without you but since that is obviously not meant to be, I will accept that I must have your assistance!"

"Such a gracious acceptance of my help," Legolas stared at her sarcastically. "Be still my beating heart, how can I refuse?"

"You are impossible!" She groaned in exasperation before storming out of the room, leaving Legolas with this intense feeling of dread that it was going to be a very long journey to Mirkwood.

* * *

Too often these days, Aragorn found himself forced to remain behind while friends left the shores upon which he was standing to go their own way. Being present while Legolas readied to leave for Mirkwood should not have been as sad an event as when Frodo and Gandalf departed for the Undying Lands because there he and Legolas would meet again. However, because the Prince of Mirkwood had chosen to depart earlier than anticipated from the White City, Legolas was forced to put in motion the plan that he had been considering so deeply in secret. The private audience with Aragorn ensured that even if Legolas were to return to Minas Tirith, it would never be in quite the same way again.

The days when Legolas would be a constant at his side, eager to face whatever lay before them was over. As much as he was pleased that Legolas had found direction, he was sad that direction would lead him further away from the way things had been with them. Aragorn did not berate Legolas for his decision because the elf could see that the world was evolving around him and if he was not yet ready to leave for the Undying Lands then it was necessary that he changed with it. Frodo had realized first that his life would never again be the same after the One Ring and had taken appropriate steps to change his course, hopefully finding some happiness after so terrible an ordeal.

Why should not Legolas desire the same?

"This is far sooner then I would have liked," Aragorn sighed, his heart heavy as he stood before Legolas at the edge of the river where the boat that the Prince and Melia would use for their journey down the Anduin was moored and waiting.

"The sooner I begin, the sooner I might be able to return," Legolas offered but it was hollow comfort for both of them. He could feel the shifting sand beneath them and knew that they were at a crossroads.

"Not in the same way," Aragorn swallowed thickly, emotion welling up inside of him. Legolas was his oldest and best friend. They had shared more than two beings could ever think to experience together and had ridden the turbulent waters of great events side by side, loyal and true.

"No," Legolas agreed with the same sadness. "Not in the same way."

The two men embraced warmly as brothers might do and knew that their friendship was perhaps even closer than blood. When they parted, both tried to hide the mist that appeared in their eyes. Legolas was glad that he had said his farewells to Eowyn and Faramir at the palace for he could not endure the heartache of any more tearful goodbyes.

Fortunately, Legolas knew what to expect when confronted with an abrasive dwarf like the Lord of the Glittering Caves. Gimli who stood beside Aragorn had seen him off many times before because as much as they were constant companions, they were also always going their separate ways to tend to other matters. Lately, Gimli had divided his time between the Glittering Caves and the construction of the mithrail gates in the White City. This departure was only the latest in a long line of partings they had made of late.

"I wish that you could come with me on this journey, Gimli," Legolas replied as he looked upon his friends. They had traveled together constantly during the years following the War of the Ring and it would be odd to look over his shoulder and not see the dwarf there at his side. Gimli had his own life as Legolas did and they would always find time to go off on some foolish crusade together, of this Legolas had no doubt. Still, Legolas could not deny that having Gimli along on this occasion to act as intermediary between himself and Melia would have been useful indeed for he did not envision the lady’s disposition to be anything less than stormy at being forced to endure his presence during this journey.

"Surely you jest," Gimli retorted, raising a brow as he gazed past the elf at Melia who was speaking with Arwen. "Even I am not so foolish to be caught between the two of your for a journey of  _weeks_." He teased, knowing  Legolas’ mind well enough. "Helm’s Deep was less bloody then this is likely to be."

"You are a true friend," Legolas responded dryly.

Gimli patted the elf on the back and said in a more serious voice, "be careful, Legolas. You are still the only elf whose company I can endure."

"Why, thank you, Master Gimli," Arwen retorted sarcastically as she and Melia joined their gathering. "I am glad that my grandmother is not present to hear that."

As Gimli stammered to respond, Arwen turned to Legolas and embraced him warmly, grateful that he was accompanying Melia on her quest but also feeling guilty for hastening him on his way so soon. It was obvious that they needed more time then this to prepare for Legolas leaving them but she supposed no amount of time would make this farewell any less difficult.

"Safe journey, Greenleaf," she smiled at him warmly and he kissed her forehead.

"Take care of yourself and your babe, Evenstar," he replied with just as much sentiment. "I hope to see you both when I return."

Melia felt her heart sink with guilt as she watched the sad farewells being traded by Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and Arwen. The sorrow etched upon his handsome face as he prepared to leave his friends disturbed Melia greatly because it was for her that he was departing so soon. It was obvious that none of them wanted him to leave and she wished that he were not so insistent on accompanying her on this journey because it was so uncertain when he would see them again.

"Be safe Melia," Aragorn’s voice brought Melia’s thoughts away from her regrets. "Dol Guldur is a dangerous place, even if it is claimed to be empty."

Although he did not know her well, Aragorn did not forget the invaluable aid she had provided Arwen during the confrontation with Glaurung. For that alone, she would always have his good wishes.

"I will," she replied grateful for his consideration and his advice. "I will rely on the Prince to see me out of trouble."

"He is good for that,’ Aragorn grinned, sensing more than a little mischief in her tone.

"Try not to kill him," Gimli added with an equally mischievous smile following the embrace he received from Melia. "Though sometimes that princely arrogance might warrant it."

"I am perfectly aware of that," Melia gave the dwarf a wink, more than accustomed to Legolas as a traveling companion after their last journey together. "However I will try to heed your advice."

Gimli laughed and allowed Melia a moment alone with Arwen as the hour of their parting was finally upon them. The Ranger and the Queen exchanged a long stare before Melia broke the silence between them.

"I know you did what you thought was best so I do not feel anger towards you. You thought of my safety and no one has done that for a very long time. Thank you." Melia spoke with sincere appreciation for her efforts.

"I hope you find what you seek, Melia," Arwen’s eyes softened with emotion and took Melia’s hand in hers with affection. "But if you do not find it, I hope you will try to find happiness at least."

"I will try to do both," Melia replied, embracing the queen once more. "You are good friend, Queen of Gondor," she whispered. "I will be back soon enough for Lomelindi is here and I wish to see you and your son when he arrives."

"You will always be welcome," Arwen answered and with that watched with the rest of the company as Melia and Legolas began their journey towards Dol Guldur.

* * *

Neither had said a great deal to each other as the boat took them down the Anduin and away from the White City. Melia seemed deep in thought and had made no attempt to tell Legolas why they were journeying to Dol Guldur although he was burning with curiosity as to why she was so determined to visit that terrible place. This was much in part due to his realization that despite his feelings for the Ranger, he knew next to nothing about her past other than what she had deigned to impart to him. While he appreciated her need for privacy, he wanted to help her because the fear in her eyes he saw was nothing to dismiss lightly. Unfortunately, they had not reached a point where she could reveal that secret to him yet.

"Am I to assume that you intend to remain silent throughout our entire journey to Dol Guldur?" Legolas asked an hour after they had left Minas Tirith behind them.

Melia stiffened, aware that she was probably being a little unfair, not to mention childish in her behavior. Her silence was akin to a tantrum thrown by a willful child and she knew that he was here because he worried about her welfare and because Arwen had asked him. Letting out a heavy sigh that not only dispelled her annoyance at having his company thrust upon her but also her lingering resistance to his presence, she decided if this must be then she ought to at least try and make the best of it.

"No, of course not," she said softening her manner towards him considerably.

Legolas was genuinely surprised to hear her speak, he had anticipated her silence to last at least another few hours before she finally relented. Three thousand years had taught him one thing about the female gender and that was speech was not something they could be deprived of for very long.

"Will wonders never cease," he remarked, casting a glance over his shoulder at her and revealing a little smile as he paused in his rowing.

"Do not make me regret speaking to you, elf," Melia warned, her brow crooking up in mock anger.

"I doubt you would have been able to resist my charming conversation for very long," he smirked, glad that things were back to normal between them. Well, as normal as it could be between them, Legolas supposed.

Melia rolled her eyes but she too was pleased that they were on more familiar ground. "If I can resist Uruk Hai, I can resist you." She said sweetly.

"You never did tell how you devised your escape from their hands at Nargothrond," Legolas reminded, aware that she did not like discussing it since she had evaded the question every time he had broached the subject with her.

"It is not important," Melia grumbled, not about to tell him that her great plan for escaping the Uruk Hai Captain that she and Eowyn had been given to in Nargothrond was a false seduction designed to put him off his guard. She considered herself exceedingly fortunate that the gamble had worked even though at the time she had been terrified out of her wits. Melia was certain that was the only reason she had managed to go through with her plan; the horror of what would befall her and Eowyn if she had not succeeded.

"Oh come now," he balked at her attempt to deter him from finding out the truth. "It is a long journey to Dol Guldur, I must be entertained."

"If you want entertainment, you should have stayed in Minas Tirith," Melia retorted tautly. "I am not your court jester."

Legolas was not about to let the matter rest since her reluctance to tell him convinced the Prince that the tale must indeed be an interesting one. "It will pass the time," he insisted. "Besides, how awful could it be?"

"You have no idea," Melia muttered under her breath.

"I promise you," he replied, looking over his shoulder again so that she would see that he was completely sincere with what he was about to say. "Nay, I give you my word, as a Prince of Mirkwood that I will not breathe a word of it to anyone if you tell me."

Melia let out a groan, wishing that she could throttle him about the ears except if she did so, it would most likely capsize the boat and that was probably not the best thing to occur in the middle of the Anduin. The Prince of Mirkwood did not give his word lightly and it was not something to be refused when offered so earnestly. As much as they enjoyed trading insults, she knew it would be a real offence if she did not take him at his word. Even if he was not offended, which she very much doubted, Melia could foresee being asked this same question continuously throughout their entire journey. Since killing him was out of the question (because it was  _wrong_ , she reminded herself), Melia supposed it would not be so terrible to tell him the truth.

"Why is it?" Melia asked no one in particular, exasperation oozing from every word, "that of all the elves in Middle Earth that I could possibly find as a travelling companion, I have to be with the one who is the most infuriating?"

"Luck?" Legolas quipped, with a grin on his face she could not see because he was faced front and knew it would earn him a slap of frustration had she seen it.

"Oh alright!" She exclaimed, conceding defeat. "I will tell you only to satisfy your curiosity and to keep you from driving me to distraction by your insistence to know."

"Finally," he returned with just as much passion. "You have my undivided attention. How did you manage to free yourself from a room full of Uruk Hai? I have faced them in battle, that you escaped unscathed while in their power, astonishes me."

"Well it is not that difficult to escape when one is a woman," she replied, annoyed enough by him that the words came easily. "All I had to do was promise him the fruits of human pleasure and he was so eager to be alone with me that he acceded to my request to send his men away. Once alone, I caught him in a vulnerable position and freed myself."

She noticed he had stopped rowing and had turned around so that he could meet her gaze. "Pray tell what do you call a vulnerable position?"

At first it did not register upon her what he was alluding do to until she saw the dark frown upon his face.

"Not  _that_  vulnerable!" she slapped him on the arm, her jaw dropping open in outrage. "Do you think me capable of bedding a Uruk Hai! Even to escape! Are you completely without wits? What do you take me for?’

"I was mistaken!" Legolas started to recant. "You said vulnerable position! What was I supposed to think?"

"I meant vulnerable as in  _alone_  with me, distracted by the thought of pleasure with a human female, not the actual ‘pleasure’! You know, this is why I did not wish to answer this question or wish it known that I escaped in that manner! Small minds like yours instantly think the worst!" She ranted on furiously.

"I am sorry!" He apologized quickly though unable to keep the smirk from crossing his face. Despite himself, he could not help feeling some measure of pity for the poor deluded Uruk Hai who had actually believed a woman like Melia would lend herself to seducing him for any reason. "I must confess it is a very different way of securing your release."

"You think so?" Melia retorted. "I was never so terrified in my entire life. If I had failed in freeing myself, the consequences…" she shuddered visibly at what she could not say and he was able to guess well enough to spare her that indignity.

"Well you were fortunate indeed that it went as well as it did," Legolas replied. "However, I would prefer it if in the event that we do encounter any sort of peril that you do not resort to that same plan to secure our freedom." He concluded that request with a wide grin before turning his back upon her to resume rowing.

Melia glared at him and wondered if it was entirely a bad thing if she were to cast him overboard. 

* * *

They traveled for the entire day, until the sun began to set in the western horizon, turning the blue sky into a vibrant shade of amber for a time. It would not be long before the blanket of stars were upon them and with night descending, Legolas and Melia decided that they would pull to shore in order to rest. Their limbs were aching from cramped confinement in the narrow boat for hours on end and the Ranger in particular, needed to feel the land beneath her feet. Of course, she would not admit such weakness to Legolas and he wondered what it was about him that inspired her to hide her vulnerabilities with such determination?

They made camp along the Eastern Shore which was supposedly devoid of Orc activity now that Sauron and the evil of Mordor were destroyed. Though there were reputed to be Orcs in Dagorland, it was three days journey from the banks of the Anduin to their vile sanctuary. But still Legolas had insisted that they camp near their boats should trouble arise and a hasty departure was needed. Melia agreed with his reasoning, aware of the dangers as well as he. For though she did not know this land as well as the Prince, she knew Orcs and knew that any precaution taken was a wise one when dealing with such foul creatures.

Legolas was glad to see the fire when he returned to their encampment, having scouted the area to ensure that all was safe. Although elves were able to endure the harshness of weather far better than men, he was still chilled, for the night was cold indeed. It also provoked a growl in his belly when he took a deep breath and scented the aroma of roasting fish. He had not asked her to cook because he assumed that expecting her to do so simply because she was a woman would have fired her contempt and he did not wish to seem chauvinistic. He had sense enough to know that Melia considered herself a warrior. The people of Far Harad seemed to define their worth by their ability to wage battle and if the restrictions placed on women were as bad as she claimed, then he would be poorly behaved indeed to expect her to do womanly duties because of her gender.

That did  _not_  mean he could not amuse himself.

"Now there is a sight to put order to my world," he remarked playfully when he returned to camp and saw her preparing their meal.

"What?" Melia mused, more focused on the sprinkling of a little spice over the meal to give it flavor than giving Legolas her full attention.

"Seeing you waiting for me with a meal cooked," Legolas smiled at her teasingly.

"Do not get too accustomed to it," Melia replied giving him a look. "Tomorrow it will be your turn and I hope your culinary skills extend to more than just carrying lembas in great quantities."

"Lady," he said with proud dignity as he sat down next to her. "The prince of Mirkwood does  _not_  cook."

"Then the Prince of Mirkwood is going to go hungry,"

"You are a hard woman," he pointed out as she removed the fish from its skewer over the fire.

"You have no idea," she arched one brow playfully as he handed him his meal on a plate. "Be careful it is hot."

"Thank you," he said graciously and they both relaxed away from the flames so that they could dine in comfort.

"You saw nothing out there?" Melia asked as they ate.

This part of Middle earth was unfamiliar to her. During her searches for her mother, she had mostly explored the north of the Anduin, in the lands nearest to Angmar. She did not wish to reveal to him that she was a little anxious because of this unfamiliarity since as a Ranger, her strength lay in knowing the land intimately and being able to anticipate all its dangers.

"No," he shook his head in answer. "It is relatively safe although these days it is difficult to say. Before Sauron was destroyed, we knew for certain the places of his minion’s greatest power. However, since he is no more, they are scattered and hiding. Thus I do not know if we are any more protected than if we had camped on the Western Shore."

"They are finding new hiding places in lands that are not common for them to dwell," Melia nodded in understanding, having encountering a little of the same problem in Angmar.

The pattern of these foul creatures were no longer a constant now that they were leaderless and without direction. Their power in Middle earth was done but like the wounded animal about to die, they were perhaps more dangerous in their final hour then they had ever been when they were in strength because of their unpredictability.

"Fortunately, if danger nears, I should be able to sense it before it arrives," Legolas offered.

"That is good to know," Melia replied. "I do not wish to awaken with one of their poisoned blades to my throat."

"Fear not, I shall protect you from harm," he said bravely and full of levity.

"On the contrary, I shall protect you," Melia did not look up from her plate when she responded just as smoothly. "If they mean to harm us, I will simply have to promise to show them the limits of human pleasure in order to secure our freedom."

Legolas threw her a sharp look and retorted tersely, "do not even joke about such things." He shuddered in disgust.

"Who was joking?" She returned his gaze with a look of complete innocence.

"I would kill anything that attempted to take advantage of you in that way. After all, I have staked a claim upon you, if you show anyone human pleasure it will be me." His blue eyes gleamed with suggestion.

Melia actually laughed out loud, "only in your dreams."

"Not in yours too?" He gasped in mock hurt. "I thought that I would be your eternal obsession."

"You are my eternal consternation that is for certain," she drawled, enjoying their bantering as much as he did.

Suddenly, the boyish smile melted from his face and his blue eyes became hard like flint. His gaze shifted past her and he set down his meal and stood up immediately, his expression one of grave concern. Melia did not know him well enough to read all his moods with any clarity but she knew that like all elves, they had a good sense of danger approaching and thus, she too reached for her own weapon before rising up to take her place at his side.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"Something draws near," he replied, unslinging his bow from his shoulder and beginning to arm it in readiness to fire.

"Can you tell what?" Her eyes swept the wood before them but she saw nothing.

"I am not certain," he answered but she noticed that he had loaded two arrows into his bow instead of one.

"I do not hear anything," she remarked and knew that she was talking too much.

Legolas frowned and forced her silence with a sharp look. His elven hearing could sense the approach of two, their heavy feet pressing into the soft ground as they neared. He was impressed by their ability to move so silently for the space between each footstep indicated that the enemies were large in stature and yet it required the heightened sense of the fair folk to detect their approach. He doubted that a human would have heard them until it was too late. He had a fair idea of what was coming after them because he had heard rumors regarding the dark threats that lingered in some of the lands closest to Mordor following the destruction of Sauron.

"Take this," he ordered as he handed to her the long dagger he wore on his back just as they began to hear leaves parting too close for comfort.

"I have my own weapon," She insisted, wondering why he required her to use a dagger instead of her crossbow.

"Your bolts will not penetrate their hides," he said hastily. The ground started to quake now. "That requires weapons that are elven blessed, like this dagger and my arrows." Legolas also carried with him on his back in elven fashion, his long blade, but he hoped the arrows would ensure it would not come to that.

"What are they?" She demanded, her heart starting to pound because they were terribly close now, enough to hear everything being said.

He looked at her briefly and answered, "Olog Hai."

Melia looked at him sharply but had little time to argue because the creatures chose that moment to launch themselves through the shrubbery into the light of the campfire. She had never seen the Olag Hai in the flesh before, but she knew of them and their fearsome natures. Not quite as big as cave trolls, they were twice the size of normal men and craved human flesh for their meals. Their skins were scales of thick armor and they carried hammers and clutching claws, while bearing sharp fangs that would rip the flesh from bones if allowed the opportunity to use them. Since Sauron’s destruction, the few remaining creatures that had not died with him wandered the hills aimlessly, scavenging food where they could.

There were two and Legolas let both arrows fly when they showed themselves. The shafts flew true and straight through the night, each embedding themselves into both their targets. The Olog Hai cried out in outrage and closed the distance between themselves and the archer. Legolas stood his ground as they approached, continuously firing arrow after arrow that met their mark with shocking accuracy. One of the Olog Hai flung their great hammers at the Prince and only then did he move, avoiding it effortlessly as they charged him. Melia had not earned their notice because she had not shot her crossbows at them. She allowed them to run past her before going to the fire where she picked up a burning log and threw it against their backs, hoping to draw one away so the elf only need to deal with the other alone.

At the time, the ploy had seemed like a good idea until the thing turned its yellow eyes upon her and Melia wondered what the hell she had been thinking, provoking a creature that she had never before in her life fought. She reminded herself that this was no different than fighting a cold drake or a dragon of Angband before realizing that she had damn near died on both those occasions. Unfortunately, there was little time to debate the point because the beast was coming straight for her. She ducked as he swung his hammer, the wide arch of its weight creating a whirl of sound before crashing on the ground where she had stood. Skidding to her knees, she swung the blade Legolas had given her and felt its edge sink into the Olog Hai’s shin. The beast screamed in pain and swatted her away like a fly.

"Melia!" She heard Legolas shout in her ear just before she landed hard. For a few seconds, she was dazed but that did not last terribly long because when she opened her eyes, she saw that a clawed spike was coming towards her. She rolled over as it dug into the earth, sitting up just in time to see the Prince shoot an arrow that impaled the Olog Hai intending to kill her in the back. The creature arched in fury, trying to extract the painful object from his body.

In his efforts to save her, she saw Legolas distracting himself enough to allow the beast he had been battling, an opening to attack.

"LEGOLAS! BEHIND YOU!" She screamed in horror as the Olog Hai used its shield and slammed into the Prince.

Legolas dropped to his knees in pain and Melia watched in fear as the Olog Hai prepared to finish the battle. Without thinking until it was done, she flung the dagger he had given her through the air, hoping her aim was better than it was. Legolas hearing her cry had somehow rolled beyond the path of the beast’s weapon, extracting the sword he had yet to use. As Melia’s blade struck the Olog Hai in the chest, the foul creature screamed in pain. Taking advantage of its agony, Legolasslash the broadsword in a wide arch. Far sharper than any ever crafted by men, the elven blade tore through flesh and organs despite the thick hide that contained them. Melia flinched as she saw the spray of blood.

The Olog Hai bellowed in agony but the Prince was far from done. The second creature was still occupied with trying to remove the arrow in its back and Meliawatched as Legolas walked towards it purposefully, eyes hard with intent, his blade still dripping with black blood. She stood by and watched because she was unarmed and her crossbow would do little to aid him. Besides, Legolas did not appear to need her aid. It was odd how fair he looked even in battle and when one saw him in a palace, it was difficult to believe that this handsome prince was such a cold, battle hardened warrior. When she saw him swing at the Olog Hai in one wide, powerful arc, she could very well believe that he had fought at Helm’s Deep, Pelagir and Pelennor Fields and survived.

The Olog Hai’s head came away from its body, its head spinning in mid air before landing in the fire and trailing embers as it rolled out of it again. Melia turned away from the grisly scene because no matter how much she thought she was strong enough to stomach all manner of atrocities, carnage still had the power to make her flinch. Legolas let out a deep breath when the body of the Olog Hai fell to the ground heavily, forcing leaves and dirt to become displaced when it landed. The elf seemed to falter a little and he dropped to his knees again, his sword falling from his hand.

Melia hobbled to him, not realizing until now that her hard landing had twisted her ankle badly and it ached as she tried to walk. She knew that she was probably sporting a large bruise on the side of her face but it seemed incidental to the fact that his face had contorted into a grimace of pain. She had seen how hard the OlogHai had struck him with the shield and knew that it was possible that he had broken ribs after incurring such a blow. His manner certainly indicated it.

"You’re hurt," she lowered herself next to him.

"Not badly," he lied through the pain.

"Fool!" she snapped at him. "You are in agony! I see can see it in that face of yours. Now move your arm and let me look."

Legolas reluctantly allowed her hands to pull open his tunic and he hissed as the cold night air touched his sensitive skin. He knew he was not severely injured but he was in pain. The Olog Hai shield was made to break bones, even elven ones and bearing the brunt of it had certainly earned him a few breaks. However, at the time, he could only think of the monster’s other companion bearing down on Melia and all rational thought fled his mind as he attempted to save her. The idea of protecting his life mattered little in the face of hers being lost. Three thousand years was long enough for him to experience life’s fullest pleasures but she was a child in comparison to him and he could not endure the thought that hers might end before it had even began.

Or more correctly, before  _they_  had even begun.

"You have broken something," Melia stated as she examined his side and saw the discoloration against his pale skin. She had never seen an elf so intimately before and had to marvel at the softness of their skin to the touch. Her fingertips grazed the swelling along his side and knew that he needed at least a day of rest before they could resume their journey for Dol Guldur again. Melia should have been annoyed by this delay but she was not. She knew exactly why he had allowed himself to be harmed this way and it was because of her.

He had been trying to protect her.

"I will manage," he replied bravely.

"You will manage nothing if you do not rest," she lowered the tunic down once more. "We will now move camp a little further downstream," she insisted. "No doubt the scent of blood will bring wolves and other predators to us."

"Perhaps I should have let you promise them the fruits of human pleasure after all," he grimaced when he tried to move.

Melia laughed softly and smiled at him warmly, taking his arm in hers to help him up. "Perhaps you should have. You would have been better for it."

"Well never let it be said that the Prince of Mirkwood does not suffer for a lady’s virtue," Legolas grunted as Melia helped him to his feet.

"I am not a lady," Melia reminded as she led him toward the boat whose spine was pressed into the shale embankment. "I am a Ranger."

"You are a Ranger no doubt of that," Legolas agreed, wondering why she found it so necessary to hide behind the word. "But you are also a lady."

"Well this lady will have you remain here," she said firmly as she lowered him to the ground next to the boat. "Remain still please, while I gather our things?"

"I did not know that you cared so much," Legolas teased, needing to feel less ineffectual than he already did by placing them on familiar ground again, instead of this wholly unacceptable situation where she needed to tend to him like a little boy.

"I could not care at all," she said haughtily but wore a smile with just as much play as his. "But I need you to guide me to Dol Guldur so I should at least ensure that you are well enough to make the journey."

"And here I thought I was melting your heart," he winked at her, though it was difficult to remain quite so charming when the pain in his side ached so much. "Have I not suffered enough to prove myself?"

"Just stay where you are," she ordered with more than a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice as she walked back to the campfire. "I shall be back soon."

Legolas watched her go and found that in his pain, he tended to be wicked and called out of after her. "No farewell kiss?"

Melia’s response was a string of words that made Legolas raised his brow in surprise.

_Well she certainly knew how to curse like a Ranger._


	4. A Night in Lorien

Legolas watched her sleep and knew that she did not dream well.

For the second night of their journey, he turned his gaze upon her, wondering if she would experience a more restful repose then the night before.

* * *

  
Following their encounter with the Olog Hai, Melia had directed them further down river and upon finding a safe place to camp had moored their vessel in order to tend to his wounds. She was in no way the healer that Aragorn was but she knew enough to relieve some of the pain he had endured battling the foul creatures. Once she had ensured that he was comfortable for the night and he could not deny enjoying it immensely when she fussed over him, she took some rest herself.

He had awoken to the scraping friction of fabric against the ground. By nature, elves did not require sleep in the manner of men and were known to be able to direct their minds to a kind of sleep while their bodies continued to function as if they were awake. However, in light of his injuries, Legolas had allowed himself to indulge in the satisfaction of complete slumber and had dozed off once they had settled into a new encampment.

The sound that brought him out of this humanlike repose had a certain urgency to it that forced his unconscious mind to seek it out. It did not take him long to discern, upon awakening, that it had come from Melia who seemed to be tossing restlessly under her blanket. She rolled onto her side towards him when a gleam of moonlight illuminated her face and he saw that there was real anxiety in her expression. Whatever she was witnessing in her dreams was clearly disturbing and he debated whether or not he should intrude upon her slumber by awaking her from its unpleasantness.

Fortunately, he had only a brief moment to debate this when suddenly she sat upright with a small gasp. For a few seconds, she sat in place, panting hard as her mind came to grips that she was free of the torture that had left her in such a state and unaware that he was awake and watching. If things between them were the way he desired, Legolas would have gone to her and offer his shoulder in comfort but he knew that they were far from that point in their relationship, if there even was one for that matter to make so intimate a gesture. It alarmed him to see this fear she felt because its power was strong enough for him to feel in his own heart. What did she see in her dreams that frightened her so much? She was not a woman who scared easily and yet as he watched her, wide eyed and almost on the verge of tears, he wished she would confide in him so that he could help her.

"Melia," Legolas called out urgently. "Are you alright?"

  
Melia jumped at the sound of his voice and she stared at him for a moment as she realised that he had seen everything and quickly, she wiped the tears that glistened in her eyes. It broke his heart to see the tears he could not wipe away. However, his inability to comfort her was not as worrying as what she actually saw in her nightmare that could reduce one of the strongest women he had ever encountered in his life to this. For an instant, he saw beneath the veneer of the Ranger, past all the insecurities and inhibitions to the woman. The woman who felt more profoundly than she would have anyone believe.

"Yes," she nodded slowly, wishing he had not seen what he had and felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable state. "I am fine."

"You do not sound it," he replied, genuinely concerned. "That must have been a terrible nightmare."

"It is nothing that I have not dealt with before," she whispered softly not intending to be heard but his elven senses were too sharp for that.

"Do you often have such fearful dreams?" He asked gently, guessing accurately that she would be reluctant to speak of them.

  
"Of course not," she shrugged and he could tell immediately that she was lying. "Everyone has nightmares. Do elves not have such dreams?"

"Yes, we do," Legolas nodded, recalling a few terrors in the dark that had awakened him the way she had a short time ago. He wondered if perhaps he could help her by displaying some empathy of her situation.

"There are times when I dream of the balrog that we encountered in Moria," he confessed.   
  
It was true. He did dream of the balrog that had pursued them through Moria and met its untimely demise at the hands of Gandalf at Khazadum.

"Balrog?" Melia looked at him, her eyes round with wonder.

"During the quest to destroy the Ring," Legolas explained, seeing he had her attention. "The Fellowship journeyed through the Mines of Moria and found that the dwarf city had been overwhelmed by a balrog they had awakened in the depths of the earth. The creature soon destroyed them all with the aid of goblins and we were to face its full wrath when we attempted to cross the bridge at Khazadum. If not for Gandalf, we would have shared the dwarves fate."

Legolas’ voice became soft as his mind drifted back to days when their purpose had been so clear and the enemy well defined. There was something inviting about knowing one’s course with such absolute certainty that nothing else seemed to matter and all he had to concern himself with was the fate of the other members of the Fellowship. Until they had scattered to the winds to follow their own destines, Legolas had no idea how dearly he missed the time when he was one of the nine walkers. The Fellowship of the Ring was the dying gasp in the final age of heroes and he was certain that once they was gone from this world, they would take with them a time of wonder and glory that would never be again.

Melia saw the sadness in his eyes and felt her heart grow heavy for him. It made her own nightmare seem less terrible hearing him speak. "This was when it was thought that Gandalf was dead?" She asked having heard something of the tale during her quest with Arwen and Eowyn.

"He placed himself before the beast to allow our escape," Legolas replied, remembering the crushing blow to all their hearts as they watched the balrog’s fiery lash take Gandalf over the edge of the crumbling bridge. Later on they would find out that he had been reborn in a manner of speaking but until then, they were all struck with a grief as real as any that might be suffered when a loved one was taken from them forever. Unfortunately, it was only a prelude to even greater loss during that journey.

"We thought we would die for sorrow of his death but we had no idea it was but the first. We did not know that we would soon lose Boromir too. He died bravely, riddled with arrows and I am told it was not until the last, did he finally succumb to the inevitable and stopped fighting." Legolas spoke softly, his eyes staring at the stars as he spoke reverently about the man of Gondor.

"I like to think my father met a similar end," she offered, understanding his grief all too well in the loss of a comrade and a fellow warrior. "The last I saw of him was a month before I learnt of his death. He had ridden away from our tribe, leading our warriors on yet  _another_  battle. He had fought so many in my life that I had never considered he would not return. One becomes complacent with repetition I think, but this time he met his fate. I suspect he probably fought as valiantly as your Boromir though I think that when it came, he was happy to meet death."

Neither spoke for a few minutes as they thought about the loved ones gone from this world and the sadness they shared in silence was nonetheless strengthening the bond between them. Since her father had died, she had shared nothing about him to anyone because no one had cared enough to ask. After being alone for so long, it was difficult to reach into one’s soul and find again the things buried so deeply. She had not spoken to anyone about her father since his death and the years of loneliness that followed after it had afforded little opportunity to confide in anyone at how much she truly missed him.

"How are you feeling?" She asked in hopes of dispelling the silence between them.

"As if I have battled Olog Hai," he retorted easing back into his sleeping place once more in order to draw slumber upon him again.

"We will rest tomorrow," she spoke gently but there was force enough in her words to indicate that she would broke no argument on this matter.

"I am hardly in the position to argue," he replied as he saw her nestle into her bedroll as well.

  
"Well," Melia said with a little smile as she closed her eyes to sleep, "perhaps there is some use for the Olog Hai after all."

* * *

 

She was still tossing and turning in her bed, the demons plaguing her refusing to release their torment of her slumber. Legolas rose from his sleeping place and crossed the circle of amber light between them. Stretching out next to her, he brushed his hand against her dark hair and began to sing an elven song the mother he remembered so vaguely except for her voice, used to sing to him as a child. He continued to sing softly into her ear as he stroked the strands of jet against his palm and drew a little smile across his face when he saw that she had stopped her restless tossing and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Melia appeared to remember nothing of his efforts on her behalf the next morning although she was in possession of a curiously sunny mood, claiming that it was due to the restful nights sleep she had been afforded. The day of rest had aided Legolas’ recovery from his wounds considerably and though he still ached, he was well enough for them to resume their journey. In truth, he had no wish to linger on the Eastern or the Western shore indefinitely. After battling the Olog Hai savages, Legolas did not wish to see what other remnants of Sauron’s army they might encounter on the banks of the Anduin and was eager to continue their journey down the river.

Almost five days after Legolas had faced the Olog Hai; the Prince of Mirkwood and the Ranger found themselves at the edge of East Lorien.

Since the fall of Sauron and the destruction of Dol Guldur, the great forest of Mirkwood, now renamed Eryn Lasgalen in the elvish tongue, had been divided by the elves of Lothlorien and Woodland Realm. The northern part of Mirkwood was the realm of his father; King Thranduil while recently, Celeborn the former Lord of Lothlorien had taken up residence in the southern lands of the great wood, which also included Dol Guldur. Celeborn’s kingdom was new and Legolas knew that his father had been neighborly enough to lend the Lord of Lorien some of his elves to boost Celeborn’s guard.

  
Upon entering the wood of East Lorien, Legolas could feel his spirits rising as he took a deep breath of the forest scent because its effect upon him was like a spark igniting within cold embers of his heart. He felt light as a feather as the home that he had known all his life for three millennia began singing its siren song straight into his soul. For a moment, he almost forgot that he had come home with a purpose that would most likely see him severe all ties with Mirkwood because it was like he was boy again, thrilling in the simple joy of who he was and being happily content by that alone.

Melia did nothing to dampen his mood because she was rather amused by his demeanor once they breached the trees of Mirkwood and wandered into its forested heart. It was difficult not to be swept up by the euphoria he felt in returning to his native lands and it surprised her how much she enjoyed seeing him happy. Legolashad not lied when he claimed he knew Mirkwood intimately, for he did. He seemed to be familiar with every tree, every path, where there might be danger and which way was safest to travel. Melia supposed she could have found her way through this maze had she attempted this journey alone but seeing the complexity of Mirkwood’s forests, she decided that choosing to travel with him had been a wise decision.

It was with a sudden start that Melia realised that enjoying his company so much, she had forgotten why she was going to Dol Guldur.

"How long until we reach Dol Guldur?" Melia asked shortly as they continued through the woods.

"Two days from here," Legolas replied, noticing that her manner was devoid of the enjoyment he had witnessed since they had entered Mirkwood. He wondered what it was that had caused this sudden shift and wished he could be assured of an answer instead of a sharp rebuke if he dared to ask. "We have yet to reach Lorien."

"Must we go there?" She asked with a little more sharpness than she had intended.

She knew it was wrong to be so abrasive with him but she could not help feeling a little resentment at his being able to make her forget her goal. For so long had she searched for her mother, driven when most would have faltered and forsaken the search in frustration. Now that she was in reach of an answer, she was allowing herself to be distracted by an elf of all things! The absurdity of it was beyond her ability to describe. What fool chose to become lost in the eyes of an elf? There was no future with the First Born, nothing but years where he remained the same while her body disintegrated before his eyes. It was folly!

And yet each moment, she lingered with him, she found herself pulled towards a catastrophe she was powerless to avoid because her heart had betrayed her.

"This is the realm of Lorien," Legolas stared at her, unable to understand why her mood had become so dark. They had been together for almost a week and in that time their arguments though well frequent were laced with good humor and gentle mischief, not this cold edge that he could feel piercing his skin. "We have been travelling within it for more than a day, we must pay our respects for our passage."

"I suppose," she muttered sourly. "I have delayed enough in my journey, I wish only to get to Dol Guldur so that I can have my answers."

"What answers would those be?" He demanded. Until now he had not asked why she was so determined to reach that misbegotten place because he respected her need for privacy. However, her manner had inspired his own wrath and it frothed to the surface when she spoke so heartlessly to him.

"I told you," she paused in her step and stared at him. "That is none of your concern."

"Lady," Legolas started to say and then paused as he restrained his anger from overwhelming him. "I told you before, your presence in this wood is my concern and if you desire passage through here, you will observe the proper customs!"

"I am not an elf," she barked. "I do not have to observe anything!" With that she stormed past him.

"Melia!" Legolas called after her.

However, Melia was not listening and in his anger he had failed to notice that something about them had change though he sensed it was not danger. It did not take Legolas long before he discerned what it was and he hastened his pace to catch up to her because he knew they were no longer alone.

Melia ignored him, having every intention of continuing doing so until she reached Dol Guldur if possible. However, she had taken little more than a few steps away from him when suddenly, stepping out of the trees like phantoms in the dark were an entire contingent of elven warriors. As a Ranger, she knew how to move stealthily but even she was startled by how flawlessly they stepped out of their hiding places, as if they had torn through the fabric of the forest and simply slipped through. She found herself surrounded. The leader, a haughty looking blond elf that was a little more brutish in his features then Legolas, stared at her as if she was something of an oddity.

"I am surprised at you Legolas," the elf said as Legolas hurried next to her. "You are now travelling with barbarians?"

Melia stiffened and immediately retorted, "Better a barbarian than an elf who hides in the trees like a fawn."

Legolas stifled a smile as he saw Haldir’s expression tighten in anger at her insult. "Haldir, be still. The lady is with me." He said coolly.

"Lady?" Haldir’s brow rose as he regarded Melia with undisguised contempt. "She hardly looks like a lady to me." His eyes traveled up and down her form. "In those clothes, I would say she looks like a man."

"At least one of us does," Melia responded icily and immediately elicited a snigger throughout the company of elves present.

"Melia," Legolas gave her a look that silenced her further from any such remarks, though he enjoyed immensely the dark expression that marred Haldir’s usually smug countenance. "The lady is a Ranger and we are travelling companions."

"Really?" Haldir turned his eyes upon her and seemed to study her in a new light. A little smile curled his lips and at first Melia did not understand why he looked at her that way. The other elves too seemed to study her with renewed intensity and Melia began to feel a little self-conscious by their scrutiny.

"I would have thought that you would have selected an elven woman to be your ‘travelling companion’ not a barbarian whose people were known allies of Mordor." Haldir concluded.

"Enough," Legolas said sharply and gripped Melia’s elbow to keep her from crossing the space between herself and Haldir and expressing physically her outrage at his inference that she was whore to the Prince of Mirkwood. "Haldir, the Ranger Melia is my guest and I will have you treat her accordingly. My father has allowed the Lord of Lothlorien a kingdom in this woods, I should not like to return home and inform Thranduil how rudely you treat his son’s companions."

Haldir stiffened and for a moment, Melia saw that both elves had a history and did not appear to like each other very much. For once, she decided that whatever the quarrel between the two, she would take Legolas’ side because Haldir was as arrogant as he was rude.

"Come then," Haldir turned on his heels, "you will pay your respects to Lord Celeborn."

* * *

Although nowhere as grand as Lothlorien, the newly formed kingdom of East Lorien had its own emerging beauty. When Galadriel had chosen to depart Lothlorienfor the Undying Lands, her husband Lord Celeborn had decided to stay in Middle earth longer. Lothlorien had been abandoned with both going their separate ways. Galadriel had departed across the sea and Celeborn, along with Haldir and some of the elves that chose to remain with the former Lord of Lothlorien, found themselves a new home in Mirkwood.

In the months since Celeborn had decided to establish his new kingdom in these woods, his smiths had been hard at work fashioning a small city interlaced within the great forest. Though none of the natural beauty of Mirkwood had been disturbed, Legolas was impressed by the work that Celeborn had undertaken prior to Galadrie’s departure in anticipation of his permanent occupation here. Lorien reminded him of Imladris in a way, cradled within the bosom of the forest rather than within a valley. Legolas could not deny that despite the grandeur of the White City, it did not have the aged magnificence of an elven city.

As Haldir led he and Melia through the city, Legolas noted that she was silent as her eyes took in the sight of East Lorien and its resplendent beauty. Even Haldir’sinsulting inference seemed to be forgotten as she stared in wonder at the settlement that seemed to have sprung forth from the land like the great trees within it. Legolas reminded himself that when the opportunity arose, he would clarify the nature of their relationship with Haldir. The last thing he wished was for the entire court of Lorien believing that she was his lover, particularly when she was not. She had behaved like a lady throughout their entire journey and he would not have her virtue slandered as Haldir was likely to do after she insulted him so properly.

It appeared that work on the city was not quite completed for they arrived when Celeborn was in discussion with his builders about the manner in which the palace’s construction was progressing. Though mostly built, it seemed as if there were some segments of it that required work still. However, though uncompleted, the home of Celeborn was still a breathtaking exercise in elven architecture with its construction twining around the great trees. Upon seeing their arrival, the Lord of Lorienimmediately dismissed his workers and came down the steps to greet Haldir and the new arrivals.

"Prince of Mirkwood," Celeborn greeted politely, "it has been too long."

"Likewise Lord Celeborn," Legolas bowed in respect for this was Celeborn’s realm and he was a visitor. Melia, taking his lead, did the same, saying little and allowing him to address one of his own. Legolas had not seen Celeborn sine the War of the Ring for it was known that the Lord of Lothlorien did not desire travel as much as his wife and was more accustomed to concerning himself with the welfare of his elves and little else.

"We found him and this ‘Ranger’," Haldir announced making no effort to hide his dislike of Melia, "in the eastern quadrant."

"Ranger?" Celeborn turned to Melia who immediately wished she was anywhere but here for his gaze was just like Legolas', rather disconcerting and piercing to the skin.

"Yes," Legolas replied. "This is the Ranger Melia, she aided the Evenstar in her quest to battle Glaurung."

"I know of you," Celeborn nodded in recognition. "The Evenstar has made inquiries on your behalf from the Lady of the Wood before she departed for the Undying Lands. Is that why you are here? To see Dol Guldur?"

Legolas turned to Melia in question and wondered how much did Celeborn know that he, who was her travelling companion and guide, was not privy too. Meliamet his eyes and knew what he was thinking. Her expression melted into some semblance of guilt but she was not about to offer any more revelation than what Celeborn had inadvertently disclosed.

"Yes," she swallowed thickly, aware of the Prince’s eyes upon her as she answered. She would have some explaining to do once this audience with Celeborn was done.

"There is nothing there," Haldir remarked before Celeborn could. "It has been completely destroyed."

"I have to go there nonetheless," she replied, directing her answer at Celeborn instead of him. "I have to see it for myself."

"Your mother will not be found there," the Lord of Lorien declared.

"Your mother?" Legolas found himself exclaiming in shock. "This has been a search for your mother?"

"I told you," Melia met his gaze. "That it was a personal matter."

"Melia, no human survived Dol Guldur," Legolas stared at her, feeling pain at the loss she was refusing to accept. "The Nazgul were very thorough."

Melia wished she did not have quite so much of an audience when answering him but she felt badly that Celeborn should know more than he, especially since he had guided her this far. He had earned the right to know. "My mother was not human, Legolas."

"Not human?" His eyes widened in shock. "You do not look elvish."

"She is not elvish," Celeborn answered for her, seeing Melia’s difficulty in explaining. "She is a River daughter."

"Like Goldberry of the Old Wood?" Legolas asked.

"No, not like Goldberry," Celeborn replied. "Her father is mortal so like him, she is mortal."

Legolas felt disappointment course through him as that explanation because for a faint instant he had hoped that she was an immortal like himself. If she were a true River daughter then she would have a life span that would ensure that he would never lose her to death like he would lose Aragorn and all his mortal friends one day. However, her father being a mortal ended that hope. It did not change how he felt about Melia but it ensured that tragedy would be the outcome of any attachment between them.

"Why could you not tell me?" He looked at her.

"I did not want anyone to know," Melia answered softly, deciding that he deserved an honest answer. "For so long I was not even certain that the River Women were real. I did not want to appear foolish for believing so much in what could be a fantasy and perhaps I feared of what I would learn about myself in discovering what they truly were."

Legolas could understand her reluctance to reveal that truth in light of her explanation. Even to the elves, the River Women were something of a mystery. It was said that they were Maiar spirits beholding to Utumo, the Lord of the Sea but few had ever been seen by others and to many, they were believed to be myth, not fact. If she had made her parentage known, she would have brought undue attention to herself or worse yet, been the object of ridicule or disbelief. Melia was too solitary a person to suffer either indignity. Nonetheless, knowing the truth explained much as to why she was so determined to see Dol Guldur for herself.

"As you can see," Legolas turned away from her and faced Celeborn, still absorbing what he had just learnt. "We have some ways to travel before we arrive at our journey. We ask for passage through your realm."

"You shall have it tomorrow," Celeborn answered. "Tonight, you will rest here and enjoy our hospitality. I am eager to hear what progresses beyond Mirkwood in the Reunified Kingdoms."

It was an offer that could not be refused and in truth, Legolas had no wish to do so. Not only would it offend the Lord of Lorien but it was a long day and the comforts of a bed were not unwelcome when they had more travelling before them until their arrived at Dol Guldur. He had no idea what would happen once they reached that desolate place for he knew that there was nothing there to find. Legolas had been a part of the force that had annihilated Dol Guldur following Sauron’sfall and he had seen for himself that its dungeons were emptied during that destruction.

However, the Evenstar was right about one thing; Melia should not be alone when she arrived at Dol Guldur and found nothing.

* * *

It became apparent after their arrival that Celeborn had not much opportunity to entertain guests since his arrival in Lorien for much pomp and ceremony went into the feast he ordered to commemorate their presence in his court. For the second time in as many weeks, Melia found herself needing more formal wear than the breeches she had become accustomed to wearing as a Ranger. However, this situation was even more nerve wracking than the gathering at Minas Tirith because there at least, friends surrounded her. In Lorien, the only person she knew was Legolas and all others knew of her was the fact that she was an Easterling.

Once again, Melia was forced to wear the same gown and felt self conscious that Legolas would know it when he saw her in it again. She supposed she could have accepted the offer of the elven maids to borrow one of their gowns but Melia preferred to wear something of her own, even if it was the only one she had. She gazed at herself in the mirror and was pleased by her decision to wear her hair loose for it seemed in keeping with elvish fashion. There had been some pretty white flowers in her room and she used one in her hair, deciding that was all the embellishment her dark locks needed.

Still, if it were possible, she would have been content to remain in her room all night for she did not relish emerging from its safety into the company of people she did not know. It had been too long since she was required to be in the presence of so many and Melia knew that much of her social skills had been eroded by years of living alone in the wilderness. In the wilds, there was no need of airs and graces, of being polite and diplomatic, there was only the understanding of where one was because more often then not, this was the skill that kept her alive.

Unfortunately, the knocking at her door ensured that there would be no escape from this ordeal and after sucking a deep breath to brace herself for the rest of the evening, Melia went to answer it.

She expected to find Legolas standing before her but instead it was Haldir waiting in the hall beyond her doorway. Melia immediately stiffened with distaste at his presence, recalling the insult he had offered her earlier at their first meeting. She wondered why Legolas was never about when he was needed, since she would have preferred his company to that of Haldir, whose arrogance seemed to know no bounds. The captain of Celeborn’s guard eyes widened by her appearance in the dress and Melia steeled herself for another biting remark at her expense.

"Lord Celeborn requests that I escort you to the hall," Haldir said stiffly although his eyes were stealing furtive looks over her. "He believes that I behaved harshly to you at our earlier meeting and should make suitable amends for my conduct." It was obvious that he was ordered rather than simply requested to make the gesture.

"Fine," Melia declared sweeping past him, deciding the only way to end this ordeal was to begin it as quickly as possible. "Let us be off then."

"I must confess," Haldir remarked as he fell into stride with her, "you do not look so much like a barbarian when you are properly attired. I can see the Prince’s attraction."

Melia stopped short and turned around to face him with smoldering fire in her eyes. "The Prince of Mirkwood and I are traveling companions," she glared at him. "Nothing more."

Haldir returned her fierce gaze just as intently, "That is a pity. You are in your way beautiful, for an Easterling." His hand reached for a strand of her hair, causing Melia to flinch slightly. However she did not retreat and held her ground.

"Come now," he replied doing the same, seeing her ambivalence at his touch. "We are not children. Surely you would have enjoyed the comforts of a warm body in your travels? You are a Ranger. There cannot be much opportunity to make attachments in your chosen vocation?"

His voice was no longer arrogant but husky and try as Melia might; she was affected by his closeness. She had paid little attention to Haldir physically during their first meeting because he had been so repulsive, however now that she had mind to notice, she decided he was handsome though the beauty of his face was different to that of Legolas.

"There are not," Melia said neutrally, aware of what uncharted territory he was steering her towards and wondered if he would dare make such assumptions about her sexuality if she were noble born instead of a mere Easterling. "I have taken lovers when I have met someone I liked enough."

"That is all I seek to offer you, a night of pleasure satisfying your needs and my curiosity. I have never had a woman of the Haradrim," his eyes filled with suggestion.

Melia smiled faintly. She should have been offended by his offer but she was not. If she were, she would have never consented to travel with Legolas alone. She was not a maiden untouched. She considered herself virtuous still even though she had known physical love and did not bind herself in marriage because of it. In the years since her departure from the Sunlands, she had known only two men intimately. One was a Ranger who had died at the hands of an orc raiding party; the other was a member of the Rohirrim.

She had not loved them but she had mourned their deaths.

"I thank you for your offer," Melia said politely, feeling less intimidated by him now that she knew what he was about. However, consenting to bed him was another issue entirely. As pleasing as Haldir might be to look at, she did not like him enough to share so intimate and exchange with him and she was certain that his entire reason for suddenly wanting her had to do with satisfying his curiosity for Easterling women. She was no one’s curiosity. "But I should have to decline."

"Because of the Prince?" Haldir returned automatically. His reaction was that of indifference to her decision. He would like to have bedded her but was not overly distressed that she had refused him. After all, if she did not oblige him, there were plenty of others who would.

"No," Melia answered perhaps a little more hastily than she should have. His eyes narrow in response as if he did not believe that she was quite as dispassionate to Legolas’ feelings as she would have him believe.

She paused a moment, gathering her thoughts before answering him, "I have no desire to bed an elf. It is dangerous."

"Only if you love him," Haldir retorted, giving her a hard stare.

Melia did not know how to answer that so she remained silent, for that was a matter she would discuss with no one, not even Haldir who had been so forward about other things. They resumed walking towards the hall, two antagonists side by side finding an odd sort of neutrality. This was the understanding reached by two who suddenly discovered that in their mutual dislike, they had more in common then expected.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are an exceedingly arrogant elf," Melia asked as they neared the entrance to the hall.

"A surprising number actually," Haldir gave her a sidelong glance as he answered. "I try not to heed their words."

"No wonder," she retorted and they both entered the hall together, chuckling softly.

* * *

It disturbed the Prince of Mirkwood to see Melia in Haldir’s company when she entered the hall, even more so when she appeared to be laughing. It was such a far cry from the antagonism she had shown him earlier that Legolas bristled in annoyance to see Haldir showing her similar regard. As Legolas fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, waiting for Haldir to bring the lady to his side, he rebuked himself for allowing Celeborn to convince him that Haldir should escort Melia to the hall in order to make apologies for his earlier discourtesy. Legolas had seen no harm in it. After all, Haldir did deserve to show some contrition for his behavior. However, Legolas did not like the look the elven captain was giving the Ranger. It was more familiar than he would have liked.

The celebration was modest in comparison to some of the feasts that Legolas had the privilege to attend in his lifetime but the atmosphere was warm and entertaining. Celeborn was always an amiable host and though it was clear that he missed Lothlorien and Galadriel, Legolas was pleased to see that he would remain in Middle earth for some time before he chose to depart to the Undying Lands like the rest of their race. It was good to know that he was not the only elf in Middle earth whose plans did not include leaving behind all they knew for the sea. While he could feel its call like every elf, there was too much binding the Prince of Mirkwood to the mortals and their existence for him to leave just yet. Someday he would make that crossing but like Celeborn, he was simply not ready.

When she was brought to his side, Legolas noticed the buzz of speculation it caused among those at court. No doubt, there would be much gossip and rumor about what the Prince of Mirkwood was doing in the company of a mortal female, particularly an unattached female. He knew that for many years, especially in the court of Thranduil, there had been much speculation as to why he had not selected a wife. He was, after all, three millennia old no matter how young he might appear to others. However, Legolas had met no one he had truly wanted to bind himself too and the advantage of being immortal, allowed him to be exceptionally choosy in making his choice.

If Melia noticed the stir her presence by him had created, she did not show it. Instead, she remained silent during the first hours of the feast, adding to the conversation only when addressed directly. Legolas suspected that she was somewhat overwhelmed by the company of so many elves when it was very possible that Arwen was the first of the Eldar she had ever encountered. This was within the realm of possibility since in the Third Age, presence of the First Born had diminished to a shadow of their former strength in Middle Earth.

However, despite her desire to remain a silent observer in the proceedings, she was undoubtedly the center of attraction. As strange as the elves might seem to Melia, she was as much a curiosity to them because of her Easterling heritage. For many years, the race of elves and men had fought the Haradrim and the Wainriders. During the last battle in the War of the Ring, the Easterlings had rallied under Sauron’s banner but little was known about the race themselves. Meliawas most likely the only Easterling female that any of them had even seen for though men were encountered in battle often enough, the women of the Haradrimwere sequestered beyond their seeing.

Unfortunately, it was clear to Legolas that the court of Lorien was also deeply curious as to the nature of his personal relationship with the Ranger. After all, there had to be something between them for her to be travelling with him alone. Legolas supposed it did not aid matters that he paid such close attention to Melia while she sat next to him during the feast. He had wanted her seated close to him because he knew her trepidation in such vaunted company. She was by nature a solitary creature, slowly becoming accustomed to having people in her life again. Legolas would be lying to himself and to anyone who asked if he denied that he enjoyed having her at his side.

When the meal was done and they were waiting for the rest of the evening’s entertainment to proceed, one of the elven maidens whose name Legolas had learnt throughout the course of the nigh, was called Miriel, directed her attention at Melia.

"Tell us of Far Harad Melia," the girl asked and the question drew a general rumble of interest from those present.

Melia swallowed thickly, wishing she had not been singled out in such a manner. She was still trying to accustom herself to their ways and she had no wish to be the focus of everyone in the room. However, there was little she could do to avoid it since Miriel was waiting for an answer. Meeting Legolas’ gaze, she saw his encouraging smile and supposed that if she was capable of fighting orcs and dragons from Angband, she could face answering a simple question about her homeland. Besides she sensed no malice in Miriel’s question, mere curiosity.

"Well," she spoke after thinking up a suitable answer. "My father’s tribe were descendants of Bor, the hero who fought with the Eldar against Morgoth in the First Age. After the battle in which Bor and his sons were killed, what was left of his kinsmen decided that they would no longer stand in battle with the forces of evil. They broke with the Haradrim and traveled deep into the Sunlands, beyond what you consider the known world. Unfortunately, the rest of the Haradrim did not accept the break and so since that first age, we have constantly been at war. The others believed that we betrayed Morgoth and later by our refusal to fight in the Second Age, Sauron as well."

"That is a terrible fate," Celeborn declared with clear distress on his face because two millennia of constant battle without end was an ordeal he could not even begin to imagine for his people or any other for that matter, especially in the desire to maintain an ideal. "It is a wonder your tribe was able to survive."

"Our survival came at a price," Melia said sadly and continued her explanations. "When the Haradrim were allied to Sauron, it is said that we were forced to endure the presence of Orcs and Goblins in our lands. Some of our women were taken and despoiled so it was decided that to protect us, we should remain hidden always."

"How primitive!" Miriel gasped, unable to imagine such a life where she would remain cloistered away from the eyes of all. "Was it this way for you?"

"Yes," Melia nodded slowly, remembering those days when she would only be allowed out of her home in the company of her father, who was more tolerant than most regarding the conduct of women in the Tribe. "Fortunately, my father had spent some time in this part of Middle earth so he saw that it was possible to raise daughters differently, which is why he taught me how to defend myself. In our lands, women may not fight or use weapons."

"That is a shame for I have seen enough women in combat to know they can carry themselves in battle as well as men," Legolas replied.

It was true. Eowyn was a shinning testament of this. The Shield Maiden of Rohan had killed the Witch King at Pelennor Fields, a thing that prophecy indicated no man was able to do.

  
"It was for our protection to begin with," Melia explained, having never really considered the traditions of her homeland so deeply until now. "However, as time went by it became simpler for men to choose their brides and conduct their household by having absolute command over the destinies of women."

"If we were to attempt such practices here, I do not think we would survive the night," Celeborn replied with a smile and receiving resounding agreement from those at court by the chorus of nods and soft replies. "I think it would grieve me if I did not have the counsel of my lady during the times of ages past."

Celeborn tried to hide the sadness in his eyes and it was opportune when the elven musicians began to play their instruments for the entertainment of those present. When the sweet melody of their song filled the air, it distracted everyone from the Lord of Lorien’s sorrow over the absence of his wife. With usual good humor, Celeborn hastened his people to enjoy the music and very soon some maids were invited to the floor by their suitors in order to dance. Only when this celebration of life bloomed around him, did Legolas see Celeborn’s somber mood dissipate. The Prince was glad for he liked the Lord of Lorien whose manner and disposition was not unlike his own and hoped someday Celeborn would be reunited with Galadriel again.

However, when he turned to Melia again, he found to his surprise that she was no longer by his side. What was even worse than this discovery was she had been borne away to join the other dancers by none other than Haldir! Legolas felt himself seething with annoyance as he saw Melia in Haldir’s arms, moving to the music and appearing as if she enjoyed his company.

Was it only this morning that Haldir’s had called her his plaything?

Legolas could not believe that she would forget that slander so quickly and deign to dance with the elf who had delivered such a stain upon her virtue. However, no signs of this slight appeared on her face as she danced merrily with Haldir, a radiant smile across her lips. Legolas watched Melia as she moved across the floor with Haldir, gliding in perfect synchronicity with the captain of Celeborn’s guard. Even Haldir’s typical arrogant manner seemed to have dissipated and there was real warmth when he gazed upon the Ranger. He seemed enchanted by her and Legolas bristled at the hold the Lorien elf had around Melia’s waist.

It did not take long before Legolas found himself striding across the floor and tapping Haldir’s shoulder so that the captain of Lorien would allow him a dance with the Ranger. Haldir did not appear surprised to see him and was actually rather gracious when he relinquished his hold upon Melia and stepped aside for Legolas.

"Why are you dancing with him?" Legolas hissed softly when Haldir was out of earshot and they had resumed dancing. This was no easy thing to do considering the sharpness of elven hearing. Despite himself, Legolas could not help but slide his hand possessively around her waist when he saw Haldir watching them together.

Melia raised a brow at the question and the sharpness behind it. "Because as you reminded me earlier today," she stared at him trying to grasp what was running through his mind. "We are guests in Lorien and should return our host’s hospitality with some measure of courtesy."

"Haldir is not your host," Legolas retorted stiffly, not meeting her in the eyes and searching the floor for Haldir to see if he was lurking about like a spider in wait for its next meal.

"He is the captain of Celeborn’s guard," Melia declared bewildered by his tone. "He asked me to dance and I saw no harm in it."

"He insulted your honor," he reminded. "Did you forget that when you chose to dance with him?"

"I did not," Melia said hotly for it was starting to dawn upon her what might have angered him this way. In understanding his motivations, she was able to force away her own ire once she knew what fire was coursing through him to engender this behavior. Melia did not know whether to smile or throttle him. She chose a third less confrontational alternative. "We have reached an understanding of sorts," she responded calmly. "Haldir is quite tolerable once one learns how to deal with him."

This did not please Legolas in the slightest. He did not like the idea of Melia tolerating Haldir on  _any_  level. "Haldir is an elitist snob. He uses women for pleasure as if they were trophies he might hunt. He would use you in the same fashion."

"I know," Melia agreed readily enough. "He already asked to bed me."

Legolas stopped dancing in mid step and stared at her.

"What? He would ask that of you while you were with….." he stopped speaking before he said too much.

"I said no," Melia declared, uncertain whether or not she should be flattered by this display or furious that he would think her so incapable of managing the affections of an unwanted lover. Around them, others present in the hall were staring at them questioningly, wondering why the guests of honor had so abruptly stopped dancing. Of course, no one could have possibly missed the daggers Legolas had been flinging in Haldir’s direction when the captain was dancing with the Ranger.

"You said no," he swallowed.

"I  _said_  no," she shook her head at him before she broke into a little smile. "You are very sweet when you are jealous," she replied as she took his hand in hers and pulled him away from the dance floor, onto the balcony outside. Melia had no desire to continue this conversation before the entire court of Lorien. Already too much was being made of their arrival together and Melia did not wish to inspire any more rumors about their non-existent relationship.

"I was not jealous," Legolas defended himself feebly once they were standing on the balcony overlooking Lorien. The sight beneath them was breathtaking with fireflies dancing through the tall trees, which in turn cradled the stars above them. "I have known Haldir for longer than you have been alive. He has always been a favorite of the ladies," he pointed out trying to explain himself and unable to deny that he felt terribly foolish for succumbing to such childish behavior. He was three thousand years and should be above such petty behavior. Jealousy was a condition of men not elves.

"I do not doubt that," Melia replied but she knew he was jealous, no matter what his higher evolved sensibilities might have her believe. "His only interest in me was to satisfy his curiosity about Easterling women. When I declined his offer he was hardly crushed by rejection."

Now that the moment had passed, Melia found his jealousy more touching then she found it amusing. She noticed that he still could not meet her eyes and his hand remained entwined in hers as if he feared letting go might allow someone else to stake their claim upon her. "Are you going to sulk all evening?"

"I am not sulking," he said petulantly, appearing like a little boy who was refused his own way.

"I do not see why you are jealous," Melia replied as she stared into his eyes and saw how easy it would be to lose herself in them if she were to succumb to the unthinkable. She swore that when she gazed into their depths, she could almost feel the sea. "I have enough difficulty trying to tolerate you. Why should I wish to vex myself with the company of another? One I might add who is even more arrogant than you?"

"True," Legolas answered, seeing that she was teasing him but with the music in his ears and with her hand in his, he did not care. He would be her fool tonight even if the cold light of day brought with it their senses. "Not to mention that I have claimed you as mine."

"Of course," she nodded with a smile, glad that he had overcome his little snit. "I forgot that. I should have told Haldir."

"I would have loved to have seen his face when you did," Legolas replied before his tone because serious. "I am sorry for doubting you. You deserve better than my suspicion."

"Do not trouble yourself," she said sincerely. "It was flattering and Haldir means nothing to me, just as I mean nothing to him. Even though you drive me to distraction, you and I are friends."

"Friends," he looked at her.

"Yes," Melia nodded.

"I do not wish to be friends," he said finally, caving into the feelings he could no longer deny.

Allowing her no chance at escape, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him in one swift moment. As their bodies crushed against each other, he sensed Melia trying to break free but he had finally summed up the courage to seize the moment and he would not yield until he had what he desired. His mouth captured hers in a soft but insistent kiss. She stiffened against him as if panicked but as he encircled her back, drawing her closer to him, Legolas felt her resistance crumble and her lips parted to give his questing tongue permission to continue.

Almost dizzy from the taste of his soft lips against hers, Melia could think of nothing when he explored her mouth with ruthless abandon. He was not unskilled at the art she soon discovered as his lips plundered hers, tasting her like she was something precious and brief.

Legolas could tell that she was afraid, even when she had allowed him the kiss. She was filled with the same inhibitions as he but he doubted even she knew the effect she was having upon him. His mouth devoured hers, he tasted her lips and felt his whole world shrink into sensation when she began to kiss him back once her senses had returned to her.

There had been other women to say for certain, however, there had always been some restraint that kept him in control, that always ensured that no matter what, he was the Prince of Mirkwood and they were there for his pleasure. The encounters had always been enjoyable for both parties but secretly, Legolas knew they lacked the emotional substance that would have made the experience truly special. Like it could be now. For days, they had flirted with each other, skirting on the edge of possibility because to admit the true nature of their feelings was to open the floodgates to a tidal wave that could never be closed.

All of her was much better than he imagined. Her scent, her taste and her touch brought out in him a raw craving for her he never dreamed could exist in a being who had lived as long as he.

"No!" She suddenly pulled away from him, leaving him shocked that she had actually retreated.

For a few seconds, Legolas could do nothing but come to grips with the realization that the pleasure they had afforded each other had come to an abrupt end.

"I’m sorry!" She gasped, mortified that she had let things get so far. "I want you so much that I cannot bear it but we are both doomed, you know that! This thing between us can only end badly."

"It does not have to," Legolas tried to convince her but his efforts despite his need for her was half hearted because Legolas knew Melia was right. "I am in love with you. You must know that by now."

"I do know," Melia nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I have fought hard how I feel for you but I cannot, I do feel the same but we have no future together."

"Beren and Luthien had a future," Legolas pointed out, grasping desperately at any semblance of hope, not merely for her but for himself. He knew of what she spoke, of the obstacles that lay between them but he did love her and he did not know if he could stand to be without her.

"You and I are not Beren and Luthien. She was the daughter of Melian and I am just a woman. I will grow old Prince, I will grow old and one day I will die, perhaps far sooner than either of us know. You will go on and if you bind yourself to me, you will mourn me for eternity and I do not think I can live with that."

"That is my choice to make," he argued, anguish in his heart because he knew she was more far sensible than he.

"If you believe that I love you," she met his eyes firmly. "Believe that I will not sit by and let you make such a choice."

And with that, she turned and walked away.


	5. Dol Guldur

To the casual observer, nothing appeared amiss between the Prince of Mirkwood and the Ranger Melia when the duo departed East Lorien in order to resume their journey to Dol Guldur. When dawn broke over Mirkwood, the two travelers thanked their host, Lord Celeborn, for his kindness and hospitality of the night before and set out of the elven settlement, as if nothing unusual had taken place between them. Haldir had noted some tension between the Prince and his companions, but failed to make mention of it for the captain of Celeborn’s guard was wise enough to discern that his interest was probably not required or wanted. Celeborn had made them the gift of two horses, which pleased Melia to no end for it meant that they would arrive at Dol Guldur all the sooner.

Considering what lay between her and Legolas, it was probably for the best.

Legolas rode on silently, looking ahead because it was far safer than facing her. If he did, he would only be revisited by the images of the previous night, when his need for her had been so fierce he would have done and said anything to touch her. After she had left him and retired for the night, he had found himself talking solace by walking through the wood, trying to understand why she was so afraid of anything between them. Of course, he knew what obstacles lay before them if they chose to pursue any relationship. He wondered if she knew that he was just as frightened of the consequences as she, that for him it would be worse though she could not see it. He would remain with her all her life if she allowed him even if he knew that someday he would have to watch her die and then go on without her for an eternity.

Did she not think he knew the risks?

For a long time, he had thought how sad it was for Arwen that she would give up her immortality and her place among her people. She would never know what it was like to answer the call of the sea when she chose to bind herself to a mortal man. He knew many who were angered that the Evenstar, the fairest of her day, should squander her existence on a man, to die with him when his time had come. Until now, Legolas had not understood how easy it was for her to make that decision, once her heart was given to Aragorn or how fortunate she was to be able to make that choice. For at this moment, he would have given anything to have the same privilege.

Melia had sought to save him by pushing him away, not understanding that it was too late. He loved her as he had loved no one in three millennia. There had been women who captured his heart, he would not delude himself by thinking that this was the first time his passion had been stirred in this manner but he did not love them, not like he loved her. He knew that if he had Arwen’s choice he would have done the same and given up his mortality in a heartbeat but that was not to be. It was a hard thing knowing that he had lost her before she was his and understood that she had good reason for her actions the night before. Melia said she loved him but she would not sit by, knowing that he returned that love at great emotional risk to himself.

Three thousand years old and he had no idea what to do.

Legolas might have taken comfort in knowing that Melia felt just as miserable as he was about their situation. The Ranger was furious for allowing herself to fall in love with an elf of all people. She knew the heart seldom permitted one to choose whom it decided to bestow its affection upon but even Melia did not think she would be insane enough to have feelings for the First Born, not to mention the Prince of Mirkwood! She could not have made a more complicated choice if she had tried. Yet against her will, she had become drawn to this handsome elf beside her, who by his nature and his good humor claimed her heart as if it had become his to own. Melia knew that it was entirely possible that she would love him for the rest of her days but for her that time did not seem terribly long when compared to his.

As they rode through the wood in silence, Melia wished more than anything that what transpired between them had not happened because she could not force the memory of his kisses from her mind. She found herself studying his profile as he rode by her side, secretly examining the contours of his face and imagining how soft his lips were to the touch. This would not do, she told herself. Out here in the wilderness, her mind needed to be sharp not lost in daydreams like she was a virginal maid. She was far too experienced and seasoned in life to be this way and this silence between them was not aiding matters much. Despite how much Melia loathed the notion, she and Legolas needed to clear the air if they were going to continue their journey together.

"Prince," Melia let out a heavy sigh. "We need to talk."

She saw his posture slacken a little in the saddle as if he had been waiting for her to say those words before he himself could broach the subject. "Yes," he agreed somberly. "We do."

"I am sorry for last night," Melia apologised, feeling like the wanton for leading him on and then pulling away so abruptly. It was not fair to him. "I was swept away in the moment and allowed myself to forget how things are with us."

"How things are with us?" He turned his eyes towards her. "How things are with us, is that I love you."

"If it were that simple," she sighed wearily.

"It would be simple if you were not so afraid," he replied. "Do you not trust me to know my own heart and decide how I should choose to bestow my love?"

"I am afraid of nothing," she said hotly. "I just know that tragedy can only be the outcome of anything between us. I do not wish to watch you stay young and beautiful while the years turn me into an old woman who resembles nothing like the Melia you care for. I cannot bear to watch the love for me diminish in your eyes as the years pass. I would spare myself that pain and you the sorrow of loss when you realize you lost me long before I died."

"It would not be that way," he tried to argue desperately, wanting her above all else to know that could never happened.

"Can you say so for certain?" Melia returned tautly. "I cannot and I will turn from this path before it becomes irrevocable to both of us."

"You do not walk the path alone," Legolas replied just as sharply. "I am there with you and I do not wish to abandon what I feel for you in the fear of what may happen tomorrow."

Legolas had wrestled all night with her words after she left him. Yes, it was true, they were not Beren or Luthien and she was probably just as right that their love would only succeed in breaking both their hearts some day. However, it was better to know a few years of bliss together rather than a lifetime of feeling nothing at all. For so long, Legolas had been chained by duty, bound to his responsibilities as Prince of Mirkwood but this one thing he would have, no matter what the consequences to himself. He loved her and though they had not lain with each other to complete their binding, he knew he was lost and it was already too late for him.

"You hardly know me, or anything of me. All you know is how you feel," Melia shook her head wishing that she did not feel this way lightly. "We have not known nearly enough each other long enough to be able to say that we will stand the test of time. All you are to me is an elven prince whose life I know nothing of save to say that you have lived through far greater times than I."

"Do you love me?" He asked her pointedly.

Melia hesitated in her answer. She knew that she did but she did not see why it was necessary to say it. However, he awaited an answer, his eyes full of hope that what she spoke of last night was no figment of his imagination borne of their passion for one another. It was also the first time that the question had been put to her so starkly.

"Yes," Melia nodded, "I do love you."

She saw Legolas’ chest swell with happiness for a brief instance before his expression hardened again. "If you love me then that is all you need to know. I know nothing really of who you were before I met you other than what you have deigned to tell me and I know without doubt or hesitation that I love you. That I will until the day all things are done between us. If we know this about each other, cannot we take a gamble upon a future together, however short that time is?"

"No," she replied and faced front again.

"Why not?" He insisted, unable to believe she could be so stubborn about this.

"Because I will not end like my father," she said finally and dug her heels into her horse, leaving him behind to contemplate her words.

* * *

For a thousand years the fortress of Dol Guldur had stood southwest of Mirkwood, the singularity to which all evil in the great forest was drawn. It was once the bastion of Sauron before the dark lord had shifted his attention Barad-dur, leaving his Nazgul to rule in his stead. Before Dol Guldur had been built, the site of its erection was covered in living trees that were brutally cut down in order to accommodate the Necromancer, the name by which Sauron was known when he inhabited the fortress. Even after the War of the Ring, when the elves of Mirkwood or Eryn Lasgalen as they now preferred to call it, had torn down its walls and cleansed its dungeons, the lands still remained barren where it once stood.

As Melia and Legolas approached the ancient fortress, the Ranger saw that the prince was right, there was little left of Dol Guldur that was of use to anyone. The land upon which it was built was devoid of vegetation or any other living thing. Bare foundations stared at them defiantly, refusing to allow the forest to claim the last vestiges of its former dark glory. The pits housing the dungeons that had caused so much pain and torture were exposed holes in the earth; their cells flung open and empty. No trace of the suffering they had caused lingered, other than the faint smell of sinister air clinging to its bricks and mortar.

She shuddered as she swept her gaze about the place. Though the sun was out and the lack of trees had robbed them of shade, she felt a cold chill run through her. It sent tendrils of ice down her spine, though she could not explain why. She had no special senses that came with her river daughter heritage, at least none that she knew of. In all honestly, she preferred to remain that way but she could nevertheless feel the terrible things that had taken place here. Nearing it, Melia tried to hide her discomfort because they were here at her insistence and she was not going to falter now that she was so close to her answers.

What was left of Dol Guldur after the elves were done with it was little more than a mound of large stones where the fortress had been. Large, ragged holes in the dirt with steps leading to the bottom that used to be the infamous dungeons where so many were tortured and abused, were exposed to the elements. Melia did not like this place and outwardly, it appeared that there was little Dol Guldur could tell her that she did not already know. The horses became anxious when they found themselves where the castle wall would be if the were still standing and it was decided that it was best to continue their investigation on foot.

Melia was shaking but she was doing her level best to hide it as she moved across the gravel, frightened of making a sound. Even though she was sensible enough to know there was nothing here capable of harming them; she felt the need to be silent as if she would wake something up if she were not careful. Her heart was pounding inside her chest for she could feel as if she was close to something, thought what she was not certain. She did not like having this perception because it was an awful feeling to know that danger was coming before you could see it.

Legolas who was blessed with such heightened awareness could feel the evil of Dol Guldur but to him, it was what remained of its ominous past. Great evil often lingered in the places it once inhabited, even when it was supposed to be vanquished forever. That is why nothing grew where the fortress used to be. It was as if the very presence of Sauron and the Nazgul had salted the earth forever. He glanced at Melia and saw that her eyes were fixed on the path ahead and cursed himself for not realizing how frightened she was. He could sense no immediate danger around them other than the terrible resonance of what had taken place at Dol Guldur and yet her eyes were like a frightened animal.

"What is it?" He asked her alarmed.

"I do not know," she shook her head as she forced her feet to keep moving. "I feel cold."

It disturbed her because the feeling intensified as she rounded the ruins of the castle itself and made her way towards the dungeons. She should have run away from the unpleasant sensations coursing through her skin but she was compelled to keep going. She ignored the walls that had crumbled to a pile and the hard gravel under her boot where there should have been grass and fertile soil. As much as she loathed continuing, she knew that at the heart of all the brutality that was committed here was the answer she needed to find her mother.

"There is nothing here," Legolas explained, as he kept pace with her, unwilling to allow her to endure this odyssey alone despite what difficulties lay between them. She was so afraid and he could not imagine what would frighten her for she was one of the bravest women he had ever known. "We cleansed it as much as we could after all the evil that had been allowed to fester here for nearly a thousand years."

Legolas remembered how the Nazgul had launched their attack upon the kingdoms of the Mirkwood using Dol Guldur as their beachhead. Never had the lands of Lothlorien and the Woodland Realm faced such peril on their own soil and it was only sheer determination that had driven the enemy back to its fortress where the combined strength of both elven kingdoms had destroyed it forever. He remembered the cost of that victory, the dead he had helped to bury and the friends who had died as he and Thranduil led them into battle. It was their finest moment and perhaps their saddest as well.

They reached the dungeons and even Legolas had to confess feeling some trepidation at descending into the pit where the Nazgul had done their worst to elves, men and dwarf alike. They say the Nazgul tortured and murdered thousands within this walls throughout the course of their rule. Who knew what other evils Sauron had committed while he occupied the place as the Necromancer until Gandalf exposed him for who he was? Melia paused at the stairs and stared into the pit. In the light of day, it appeared harmless enough and she took the crumbling steps to the floor of the pit. Legolas followed her, wondering what it was she sought so desperately. There was no way of knowing whether or not her mother had been here. Nazgul did not keep records and if there had been any, they would have been destroyed when the elves razed Dol Guldur to the ground.

"Melia, she is not here," Legolas replied, hoping that would help her in some way.

"I know that," Melia hissed, wondering if he thought her for a fool. She knew her mother was no longer here but had she been in Dol Guldur once?

That was a question Melia was not able to answer.

She reached the floor of the pit and was grateful that she could see the sun above her head for its brilliance gave her some comfort despite the fear she felt in her heart. The memory of death was like thick smoke, choking her. She could feel it against her skin and in her lungs when she drew breath. Legolas was staring at her in confusion, not understanding. In all truth, she did not understand either. She had never had any sort of mental ability common to elves or wizards. She had always been blissfully human relying on senses of sight, sound and mind.

"What frightens you so?" He asked, coming up behind her so that she could draw strength from his presence.

"I do not know," Melia shook her head, grateful that she was not alone. She saw a cell, its bars still in place even though its door was wide open. Inside its confines there was only emptiness. Melia walked towards it with a power that was not quite her own. She could feel her stomach starting to knot, clenching with a decidedly unpleasant sensation. The feeling of death as she neared the cell was so strong that she started to tremble a little and would faltered if not for Legolas’ hand taking her own, in order to help her complete her journey there. She passed through the cell, her fingers grazing the cold steel when suddenly the entire world went mad.

It was like a blinding flash of light inside her head.

Its intensity was so powerful that it felt as if she were being blinded from inside her skull. She let out a short cry as she landed on her hands and knees gravel biting into her palms as she fell. The pain was like a spear through her head and she screamed out loud.

* * *

_The woman was weeping._

_She was crouched in the corner of her cell, weeping terrible tears._

_The creature standing before her was once a man. What it was now, no one save Sauron himself and the shadow dwellers could explain for certain. Her voice was not the only one in such torment. Echoes of other voices, men and women, weeping elsewhere created a windstorm of pain swirling around the creature who had caused it. He was not alone though. There was someone else with him. The old man dressed entirely in blue who was not as dispassionate to the woman’s tears as his unholy companion. There was sadness in his eyes, the look of someone who was damned for all time and knew it._

_"This will not work," he implored the creature before him, the one who wore black like an endless chasm of darkness. "I cannot do this."_

_"You have begun," the creature answered and his voice had the will to drain the life from anyone who heard it. It was all things hidden in the night of terrors that lurked in dark places waiting for prey to emerge._

_"I cannot finish," he replied. "They will die before I am done and what good will they be to your Master, unformed?"_

_The woman continued to weep, heeding nothing of them both._

_"He is your Master," the creature reminded. "You chose to serve him in this place. We have been good to you. You have had your fill of unwilling subjects to work your magic. Now it is time to pay the price for that."_

_"I never intended this!" The old man cried out. "I only wished to make something greater than elves or men combined. Your master had no right to twist my work into this abomination!"_

_"My master has right to do anything he pleases!" The creature shouted and though his voice was not loud, its menace sent fear through the old man._

_The old man started to touch the woman, to ask forgiveness before his courage left him, but she did not look at him and there was no forgiveness when he had not even done his worst. "I am sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for this to happen Ninuie."_

_At the sound of her name, she turned her head and looked at him with tear filled eyes. "Not as sorry as we are Istar, not as sorry as we."_

* * *

"Melia!"

Legolas shook her again. She lay in his arms, blood running a red stream from her nose, her eyes wide open and seeing nothing. He had no choice but to take her out of the cell after she had fallen into her seizure. He had no idea what she was seeing but her scream had been enough to force him into action. He swept her into his arms and carried her out of the pit. Her state was such that she barely noticed that he had brought her away from the fortress. For a terrible moment, he thought she had died and the pain that course through him was so agonizing that he might have crumbled in despair if he had allowed himself to believe it.

When they had reached the horses, he lay her down on the ground once more, cursing the shadow that Dol Guldur still cast upon them. She did not move and continued to stare into nothingness until he shook her again, this time harder than before. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was surprised the sound alone did not wake her. There were tears running down her cheeks from terrified eyes that saw straight past him into what he could not say but knew for certain must be terrible to reduce her to this. She was being treated to a sending of some sort and Legolas cursed that Gandalf was not here because the wizard would know how to treat this malaise.

"Melia! Wake up I beg you!" Legolas implored, suddenly understanding that this was what she was so afraid of, this horrible feeling that gripped his heart knowing that she might die at any time. This was what she had been trying to spare him.

She gasped out loud, her body arching on his grip, trying to draw as much air into her lungs as possible. When the need for air subsided, she crumpled in his arms again and started to cough as if she could not breathe. The sound broke the still calm of the forest and sent birds in their nests flying in search of quieter surroundings. Melia’s coughing soon descended into weeping and she cried in loud sobs as she clung to him as if he were all that stood between her and complete madness.

"Melia, are you alright? Are you hurt?" He demanded, panicked by the sight of her blood when there was no wound.

"I saw it!" She wept bitterly. "I saw what happened there! What happened to my mother!"

"How could you see?" He asked bewildered. Celeborn had said nothing of her having any special abilities because of her father’s mortal heritage.

"I do not know," Melia shook her head, confused and frightened as she continue to cling to him. "As long as I can remember, I have dreamt of my mother. I cannot say for certain what those dreams mean because they were always vague and uncertain but in them, she was always in pain."

"In pain?" He stared at her, understanding the reasons for those terrible dreams that plagued her during their journey here.

"Yes," she nodded, releasing her hold of him now that she felt a little stronger and sat up on her own. She noticed the dampness on her cheek and touched her skin experimentally to be rewarded with the sight of blood. "In them, she was always screaming as if something terrible was happening to her. It never seemed clear and I never told my father. He was devastated when she left him and in the years since our return to Far Harad, I learnt not to speak of her to him."

"You saw something in the Pit," Legolas declared in understanding. "Something that made you able to unravel the mystery?"

"She was here Prince," Melia met his eyes with sorrow. "She was in the pit with others, I think they were all the same. They were all weeping. There was so much fear and suffering. I think what I saw was always inside me but it required being here at Dol Guldur to open the door. I do not think she is dead, I do not feel that she is dead."

  
"But you saw her in torment," Legolas reminded. "If she was here, the Nazgul would have killed her, all of them if she was not alone."

"Something was being done to her," Melia replied, trying to recollect every aspect of the tortured vision she had been forced to see. "She was weeping and there was an old man, she called him Istar."

Legolas’ eyes widened with shock. "Did you say Istar?"

"Yes," Melia nodded. "Istar. Does that mean something to you?"

Legolas stood up and walked away disturbed beyond all reasoning. Melia realised that he knew something and stood up shakily. "Legolas, you know something. Tell me."

"It is impossible," he turned to her after a moment, not knowing what to say. "Saruman is dead, Gandalf has gone to the Undying Lands and Radagast cares only for Kelvar and Olvar of Middle earth. He has never been to Dol Guldur."

"Gandalf the Grey?" Melia stared at him in shock, recalling the wizard that come to rescue them at Nargothrond with the rest of the Fellowship. "That is an Istar?"

"Gandalf was an Istar," Legolas met her eyes nodding. "Five Istari came from the Undying Lands to save us from the dark powers of Sauron. Of the three, I have already spoken but two, two were unaccounted for. We know nothing of what became of them. I do not believe even Gandalf knew."

"He was wearing blue," she whispered. "He was an old man wearing blue."

"We encountered no Istari when we destroyed Dol Guldur," he answered. "Only Nazgul."

"He was there!" Melia insisted. "If you say you love me, if you believe that I am all that you will ever want in this life, I swear to you I know what I saw. It was real! He was there in that dungeon doing something terrible to my mother and all her people! I have searched for years to find some trace of a River Woman and I have found nothing. What if they were all somehow brought here to Dol Guldur? Sauron had more than enough power to see that was possible, even when he had no body! What if it was his will to destroy them all? Would that not explain why no one has seen or heard of a River Woman?"

"Melia," he took her shoulders in his hand and made her look into his eyes. "I believe what you saw, but we do not know that your mother and the others like her were not killed by the Nazgul."

"She’s alive!" Melia exclaimed. "I know it! If the Istar is alive then so must she be! I have to find him!"

"Melia," Legolas stared at her in exasperation, wanting to help but what she wanted to do was next to impossible. "If you saw an Istar, he could be anywhere in Middle Earth. He has remained hidden for centuries without any of us, even members of his own Order, having any idea of him. How do you expect to find him?"

Melia sunk to her knees in defeat because he was right. She had no idea how to find her mother, not one at all. She raised her eyes to him, brimming with tears. "This cannot be all there is. I cannot have come so far to learn what I have and be powerless to stop any of it. I saw what I saw for a reason."

Legolas dropped to the ground with her and took her up in his arms. She did not resist as he held her in his embrace. "Come home with me to the Woodland Realm and we will find your answers," he whispered softly. "I promise you, we will find out the truth about your mother."

 

* * *

On horseback, it took almost three days to cross Mirkwood and enter the Woodland Realm, kingdom of King Thranduil. As much as Legolas would have preferred this homecoming to be a happy one, he felt only somberness upon entering the familiar ground of his childhood. It raised his spirits to see the trees he had climbed as a boy or the glades where he sat and listened to the sounds of the forest, when the noise at court became too much for him. As a youth, he had hunted many things in Mirkwood’s depths and returning home gave him some sense of order that though the world might change so much that he barely recognised it at times, Mirkwood at least was one constant in his universe.

Of course, what he intended to do here would change his existence as he knew it and would most likely bring grief to his father. Although Legolas loved Thranduil dearly, he knew he could not stop the events he had set in motion the day he had left Gondor. He had no wish to break his father’s heart but Aragorn was right. He would never feel fulfilled ruling a kingdom he would always believe was his father’s alone. He could live with being the Prince of Mirkwood but not with being its king. If he was to wear that title, Legolas would prefer to earn it instead of have it come to him at the expense of his father.

If that did not trouble the Prince enough as he closed in on the wood surrounding his home, expecting at any time to be waylaid by his father’s guard, Melia’s demeanor since their departure from Dol Guldur was worrying to say the least. The spark in her eyes seemed to have faded and the sadness he saw in place of it was enough to break Legolas’ heart. Although she tried to maintain a brave face as she always did, he could tell that it was hurting her to be so stymied in her search. He wished he could give her some hope but in truth, he did not have the slightest clue as to where they should begin to search for a missing Istar. He hoped that perhaps his father might have some idea for if an Istar did reside in Mirkwood for a time, even if it was at Dol Guldur, Legolas was certain that Thranduil would have heard  _something_  of it.

Legolas knew he was not far from home even though he had yet to encounter any of his father’s men. The only reason he had managed to slip through their defenses undetected was mostly because he knew more about moving stealthily then they ever did. Since his youth, he had been an accomplished hunter who was capable of stalking prey without their slightest inkling of his presence until he had moved in for the kill. In Mirkwood, with the evil things that moved about the darkness of its uncharted woods, such a skill was necessary for their continued survival.

"How far are we from your home?" Melia asked as their horses moved through a well-traveled path.

"An hour," Legolas looked around the trees and smiled faintly.

"An hour from Thranduil’s court and not one guard?" She rose her brow in question. "That is hardly a safe situation for an elf king."

"You think so," his smile seemed to grow wider.

"What do you know that I do not?" She looked at him suspiciously. He had that look of mischief about him again, the one which meant he knew something that she did not and was enjoying every second of it.

"Shall we tell her, my friends?" Legolas called out. "Or do you plan to hide forever and forego the courtesy of greeting your prince?"

A ripple of laughter moved through the wood around them in tandem with rustling foliage and suddenly, Melia saw bodies dropping out the canopy of trees, like drifting leaves to surround them. Legolas grinned widely as elven warriors appeared out of the wood, obviously aware of their existence for some time now. Melia frowned at the prince, feeling somewhat ineffectual that she had not noticed their presence. As a Ranger, she prided herself in being able to detect the enemy before an ambush although elves were often the exception to such rules for they were the masters of stealth.

"I should have known better than to hide from you Prince Legolas," the leader of the group declared happily as he approached Legolas’ horse. Like all elves, he wore his golden hair long but his appearance indicated that he was a little older than Legolas.

"Nunaur," Legolas greeted the captain of his father’s guard. "It is good to see you. How do things fare here?"

"They are better since Lord Celeborn and his lot chose to civilise the southern forest," Nunaur replied. "Your father will be pleased to see your return, Prince. Only today, he spoke of how much you were missed."

"Then we will both be happy," Legolas smiled faintly before turning his eye to Melia who was being held under deep scrutiny by Nanaur’s men. "Nanuar, I would like you to meet Melia, she is a Ranger of Angmar and my travelling companion."

Melia expected the same reaction from Nanaur that she had received from Haldir at East Lorien but nothing of the like occurred. Instead he bowed politely in greeting, as if he was uncertain of what to make of her yet and regarded his prince once more. It did not take her long to realize that his respect for Legolas prevented his making assumptions about her relationship with the Prince of Mirkwood. Melia did not know whether or not that was a compliment or an insult.

It did concern her however, what sort of reception she would receive when she was presented to King Thranduil by his son.

* * *

King Thranduil looked nothing like his son.

Although he was handsome and appeared far too young to have a son who was three thousand years old, his physical appearance bore little resemblance to Legolas. Legolas had told her much about his father but of his mother she knew little, except that she had journeyed to the Undying Lands shortly after his birth. Melia suspected that Legolas’ looks must come from his mother for Thranduil’s hair was dark like Arwen’s and his eyes were the color of emerald pools instead of the sea like his son. He appeared a less serious man then Legolas who only seemed to show his boyish mischief around her and maintained his wise manner around the rest of the Fellowship. If this was because he believed they needed his years as counsel, Melia could not say. However his father had no such inhibitions and expressed his happiness to see his son without restraining his emotions for the benefit of his court.

Legolas seemed happy enough to see his father but Melia could tell the shadow that was in his eyes as they made their greetings. Despite the present difficulties in the search for her mother, Melia was not so absorbed in her own defeat to not see that Legolas was enduring trials of his own. She felt badly for her manner since leaving Dol Guldur because it could not have been easy for him to come home to tell his father what was needed without having to worry about her as well. Melia resolved herself to be of better disposition at least for her stay in Mirkwood. Legolas had promised to help her find the missing Istar and though she doubted very much that he might be able to provide her the answers she needed, it was good to have his company in the search.

No matter how dangerous being around him could be.

Besides, she had something of a plan and Melia preferred that Legolas be at Mirkwood before she attempted it. If he knew what she had planned there was no way he would let her go through with it and she needed to do so if there was going to be any chance to find her mother. She only hoped that if she failed in her task, he would understand why she had left him to accomplish it. It was very possible that she could die in carrying out this foolhardy plan if past experience was anything to gauge. However, Melia had no choice. She had to try.

After the happy reunion between father and son, Thranduil immediately called for a feast to celebrate the return of his son. Although Legolas wished he did not make such a big fuss, there was little the prince could do to avoid it. Thranduil’s reaction to her was silent and contemplative, accepting his son’s explanation for her presence with little more than a smile and a nod. Melia immediately felt uncomfortable for she could tell the king was not usually so sedate. Unfortunately there was little she could do because leaving Mirkwood after its Prince and King had extended her their hospitality for the evening was extremely rude. Despite the urgency of her search and her misguided feelings for him, Melia believed Legolas needed her there at least for tonight. . He had made good on his promise to guide her to Dol Guldur and the least she could do was repay his kindness. 

This time, Melia relented and borrowed from one of the elven ladies at Mirkwood a gown so that she could attend the gathering at Thranduil’s court in something other than the blue dress that Legolas had seen her wear twice before. When it was presented to her, Melia could not help but gasped at the beauty of it. It was the color of the amber sunset and the silken fabric against her skin seemed to make her glow with radiance. Melia was certain that there were ladies in Gondor who would pay their eyeteeth for such a work of art and she could not help but think that she was not good enough for such a gown.

When she dressed, she discovered something else in the room she had been assigned and could not imagine how he could have slipped it in there without her seeing him leave it. In a small box, was a single strand of gold, broken every few links by a single bead of sapphire. It was the loveliest thing she had ever seen and for a moment, Melia thought it must have been a mistake until she saw the note from the prince, asking her to wear it. She would have refused if not for the fact that she knew it would hurt him and threw caution to the winds by indulging him in this one thing.

Upon dressing, she went to join him in the hall where the feast was taking place. When she journeyed there, she noticed that her presence was raising eyebrows. Melia frowned unhappily, deciding the gossipmongers were already hard at work, speculating at their relationship. She supposed she could not blame them for this because Legolas was the crown prince and unattached princes such as he, would cause a stir even if they paid special attention to a scullery maid. However, it did not aid matters much when Melia was placed next to Legolas and his father, in a position that was clearly provocative as far as royal protocol was concerned.

"I am glad you wore it," Legolas remarked as he glanced briefly at the chain around her neck.

"It is lovely," Melia smiled and traced her finger along the smooth gold. "Though I think a little much for the likes of me."

"It is only for you," he replied meeting her gaze intently. "It was my mother’s."

"Your mother’s?" Melia exclaimed shocked and understood now, why she was observed with such scrutiny earlier on. No doubt, everyone who passed her recognised the trinket she wore and its significance. "I cannot take this."

"I wish you to have it," he insisted.

"Prince," Melia sucked in her breath. "Please do not make this any harder between us then it has to be. I will be your friend but I cannot be your lover. You know why."

"I know that I love you," he hissed quietly, ignoring the entertainment provided for the guests. "I wish no other woman to wear what is my right to give."

He did not care who heard him say that, he was unashamed of his feelings for her.

Melia argued with him further but Legolas was adamant and she knew that he would not change his mind and take the gift from her. In some ways, she loved him more dearly for his determination and his indifference to what anyone thought about his feelings for her but she knew that his father had noted the exchange and he was not happy.

* * *

When King Thranduil asked her to dance, Melia could not refuse but she sensed he had purpose in his request and so she had no choice but to join him with the other dancers on the floor as Legolas looked on with concern. Throughout the course of the night, he had been polite but she suspected that he was paying close attention to her effect upon his son. As they took a turn around the room, Melia waited for him to speak, prepared to agree with everything he said if his desires for Legolas were what she expected.

"He loves you," Thranduil broke his silence as his deep gaze bore into her.

Melia saw no reason to lie. "Yes he does," she nodded somberly. "I cannot change his mind on that no matter what I say to him."

"Do you love him?" The king asked in turn.

Melia hesitated before she answered. "Yes, I do but unlike him, I am not so idealistic to believe that any future can come of this thing between us."

"I am glad," Thranduil said softly. "I have nothing against you Melia, daughter of Hezare but I will not see my son’s heart broken. I lost my wife far sooner than I should have and it is a pain I carry with me always. I will not see him endure the same fate if he were to bind himself to a mortal. Your life will be short but his suffering is eternal."

"I know that," Melia’s voice lowered to a whisper. "Do you think I have not told him that?"

"Then perhaps you need to break his heart for him to understand," the king replied coldly.

"Break his heart?" She stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. She had intended to leave certainly. In fact, after Legolas had revealed to her the necklace she wore around her neck was his mother’s she became more determined to go. However, Thranduil’s words had a cruelty to it she did not intend.

"Yes, show him that he means little to you no matter what he believes and leave him," Thranduil declared.

"No," Melia shook her head and met his eyes firmly. "I will not do that to him. I will say goodbye in my own way and then I shall go."

When the dance was finished and she returned to his side, Legolas questioned Melia about Thranduil’s words to her as they danced but she had no wish to tell him the truth. Already, a rift was going to take place between father and son when Legolas told his father that he would not be remaining in Mirkwood. There was no need for Melia to worsen the situation by telling him how much Thranduil disapproved of the possibility that he might have feelings for her not when she was leaving with the coming dawn.

* * *

"Well that was not so terrible was it?" Legolas asked as he walked her to her room when she was ready to retire for the night.

The revelry was still taking place beyond the walls of the corridor and Legolas had informed her that such celebrations often lasted until the small hours of the night. Apparently, it was traditional for such celebrations to last until the sunrise and while it might be entertaining to linger and watched elven debauchery at its best, Melia intended to continue with her plan to return to Dol Guldur with the coming of the new day. However, only one duty was left to her now and it was not one she relished at all.

"What?" Melia looked at him as they approached her door.

"Being with me?" He smiled.

"Being with you is easy," Melia replied as she paused at her room. "Staying with you is hard."

"I wish you would trust me," he stared at her longingly. "I would never hurt you Melia."

Melia sucked in her breath, wishing he would not do this. "I know you would never hurt me Prince but by my death, I would hurt you and I cannot bear that."

"You take the choice away from me," he swallowed thickly, trying to hide his disappointment at her refusal again.

"You need to take this back," she reached for the chain around her neck. "It is not for me to have."

"I wish you to have it," he declared in exasperation. "Can you not let me have my way in this one thing?"

"Why can’t you see I am not trying to hurt you?" She cried, opening the door so that she could escape him.

However, Legolas was not about to let the matter rest and followed her inside. "You are a coward Melia."

Melia froze in her steps and swung around, facing him. Her eyes full of fury as he stood before her, proudly defiant. "You call me a coward for trying to spare your feelings? I fear nothing! Least of all you."

"You are afraid," he took a step closer, determined to have her understand that he was not going to give up on her. "You are so afraid you cannot bear it! I know you love me but you are so terrified of taking a chance that we might survive those odds you think are so insurmountable that you would say anything!

"How dare you!" She strode towards him. "I am thinking of you!"

"Think less of me and of what you wish, not what you fear." He retaliated sharply.

"Get out!" She ordered, hearing as much as she was going to.

"No," he shook his head and closed the distance between them.

Within seconds, he was before her and then suddenly he was against her. Legolas slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, capturing her mouth as soon as she opened it in protest and delivering his most searing kiss. She tried to push away but he was determined and he was passionate, his lips torturing her with brutal demand and she felt herself visited by the torrid encounter in East Lorien when she had almost given herself to him freely. His mouth upon hers was dizzying and though she knew it was folly, though there were a thousand reasons in her mind why this was wrong, Melia could not at the moment think of one as he kissed her. As the last of her resistance melted away by the incredible touch of him against her lips, Melia decided that mistake or not, she was his.

At least for tonight.

Legolas continued to press his mouth against hers until she finally relented and began kissing him back. He cared not any more that he would have her for only a splinter of time, only that she was his right this moment. His lips were brutal with need, plundering as his tongue forced its way past her teeth and invaded the moist cavern of her mouth. He forced her against the wall with the fire of his desire, driving her back against it as far as possible so that there would be no more place for her to run. When she could retreat no further, Legolas was greeted with the heat of her soft body pressed against his.

Melia no longer cared about tomorrow only tonight. She felt his hands running along her figure, exploring each curve with delight as his mouth continued to ravage her own with such fierce desire she could hardly breathe. Every since that night in Lorien, she had dreamed of him touching her this way again, even with all the consequences she still feared would take place when this night between them was done. She felt his hard chest pressed against her own and the growing evidence of his arousal as he pushed himself closer to her, until the air itself was driven from her lungs. There was nothing gentle or romantic about what was about to happen and Melia was grateful for it. At the moment, their sanity would only allow for a hard, driven coupling. Tenderness could come later.

Legolas could not get enough of her. Her lips were swelling from his ministrations and he took pity upon them and slid further down her neck, tasting every inch of smooth skin until he reached her collarbone. This time, there was no hesitation as he pulled the dress from her shoulders, sliding its fabric down her arms. Beneath its silk, she was bare and his breath caught as he laid his eyes upon her nakedness. He saw her swallow self consciously, as if she was uncertain that she would be all that he had expected. He paused a moment, his blue eyes gleaming with hunger before he lowered himself to captured one tight bud in his mouth and suckle gently. Her reaction was immediate. Her body languidly arched against him, her nails racking into his back and he swirled his tongue around the erect tissue.

Melia was gasping. Her entire body was caught in a wave of fire as she felt that insistent mouth tugging at her hardened nipple while his hand kneaded the other hard. She closed her eyes shut, lost in sensation as her fingers unconsciously tore at his clothes, desiring to feel his skin as sensuously as he was tasting her. Lowering her head, her lips reached his ear and her tongue traced a line against the ridge. She knew that it pleased him because he groaned slightly and then resumed his assault upon her breasts with even more fervor. It was becoming hard to concentrate on what she was doing as she continued to tantalize that tender piece of flesh, aware that each sensation she made him experience was one she would have to endure herself. She could feel the heat between her legs, the moistening of her inside in anticipation of how he would feel when they were ready to join.

"Oh Prince," she muttered caressing his hair with one hand as she felt his teeth graze her nipple.

Suddenly, she pulled him away from her breast and made herself face him. Legolas stared at her in puzzlement before she pressed her mouth against his in passion and slowly turned him around, so that he would be standing with his back against the wall and not her. He stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was about when suddenly, she began to free the buttons of his tunic, exposing his smooth chest. He swallowed thickly as he watched her mouth begin to work on him as mercilessly as he had done to her. Her tongue was creating fire with each flick against his skin. Legolas closed her eyes as he felt her hot breath moving down his chest, alternating between kisses and gentle nips that made him moan softly in pleasure. Her hair was brushing against his stomach and he was so hard he could barely think. He looked at her and saw a smile cross her lips as she reached the band of his breeches. Her eyes clouded over in mischief as her fingers slipped past the fabric and she thumbed the skin there with clear indication of what he was about to receive.

Legolas started to pant as he rested his head against the wall, his hand stroking her hair as he felt her pull the breeches down his legs and expose his more private parts to her ministrations. He closed his eyes as he felt her warm breath move over his length, now thick and weeping with need. He wanted to tell her she did not have to show him pleasure that way for he knew some women were uncomfortable with such displays but any consideration of the sort was driven from his mind when he felt her hands around his shaft. He let out a pleasured sigh as her smooth palm ran up and down his length. His fingers began to entwined in her luxurious hair as her breath drew closer to his hardened flesh, driving the reason further and further from his mind.

Legolas knew he had completely lost all coherent thought when she enveloped him in her mouth. The sensation of wet, velvet heat over him was enough to force a strangled gasp from his lips. His entire body became slave to her mouth, until his hips started to thrust gently into the tight ring of flesh that encased him. She was ruthless as she suckled him hard and insistently, her tongue laving the heavy shaft before culminating in warm pressure against the head. He felt her explore the slit and swirl her tongue over the tip, until he was moaning so loudly, it did not seem seemingly that any man or elf should cry out this way. However, at that instant, he was beyond caring about anything except what sweet pleasure her sensuous mouth was affording him.

"Melia!" He uttered a low growl, unaware that he had done it until the words had him. He could feel it building inside of him, the need to release himself into that warm mouth. His hands were grasping her hair as he thrusted gently, wanting her to finish him. He could not stand to be away from the incredible pleasure she was making him endure. However, he did not want their first coupling to end like this no matter how much he loved the way she was making him feel. Legolas knew that if he did not bid her to stop, she would most likely bring him to his peak and he wanted to be inside her when he succumbed.

"Stop, I cannot endure if you continue, " he pleaded breathlessly before pulling her up so that they could take the final journey together.

When her mouth left him, he thought he might die from the loss of such exquisite pleasure. However, all the cessation of her oral manipulations had done was to make his passion for her a brutal frenzy and as soon as their eyes met, his mouth devoured hers again. This time, he gave no quarter as he pulled what remained of her dress down her body until it had pooled at her feet. He stared at her completely naked, hunger filling every fibre of him as he studied her flesh as though he had never seen anything more perfect. What reservations there were between them were now gone and he slid his arms over her smooth back, before exchanging their positions again.

She stared at him with some measure of apprehension because there was an almost feral look in his eyes when she was pressed up against the wall with nowhere to run. His hand slid in between her thighs, knuckles grazing the tender flesh as he grasped her leg and hooked it over his hip. For an instant, their eyes met as she felt his shaft poised against her moist entrance. There was a look of wonder in his eyes as if he could not believe that they were here at this moment. For so long they had wanted each other and now they stood on the periphery of something that would change them both forever once they stepped over its edge. It was more than just physical pleasure, it was an emotional bonding.

"Are you sure you want this?" She gasped, thinking she would die if he were to come to his senses at long last.

He answered her by sliding deep into her body with one hard brutal stroke. Melia arched at the penetration, her hands wrapping themselvs around his back as he pushed inside her. Legolas let out a soft groan upon being enveloped by her warmth, unable to believe that the pleasure of her mouth could be superseded by the ecstasy of her body.

Sweet Eru, he never thought, never imagined, it could feel like this.

He was forced to close his eyes and bite down when he felt waves of sensation reverberating throughout him upon sliding into of her. Warm suction coerced him deeper with promises of agonizing pleasure as he pulled the leg hooked over his hip even closer until his fingers were digging into her flesh from the unbelievable pleasure of the deep penetration. Bracing himself with his other hand against the wall, it was all he could do to keep from crying out. The sheer intensity strangling his hardness was beyond endurance and he panted in quick short breaths as he accustomed himself to being inside her. Melia’s nails were raking across his back causing sweet pleasure in midst the pain.

"So tight," he muttered huskily into her hair, "so tight."

Legolas filled Melia like no one had ever filled her and she knew that she would go to her death, never wanting anyone else but him. He had not even begun to move and yet he was sending her spiraling into a whirlwind of sensation that was forcing all sense from her mind. She loved the smell of him in her lungs, the taste of him on her lips and the incredible fulfillment of knowing that he loved her and would continue to do so long after she was gone from this world. Even in death, she would know immortality in his heart.

"I love you Prince," she whispered in his ear just before she neared to nuzzle it.

Legolas met her gaze long enough for Melia to see that despite being caught in the physical pleasure of their union, he was not so lost that he could not appreciate the significance of her words. His blue eyes sparkled like sun bouncing off the ocean and a smile rolled across his lips before the passion of the their coupling overcame him and he began to move.

"Forever." He whispered as he punctuated each word with a long, hard stroke. "Until all things are done, Melia. No matter what you believe."

It did not take them long to develop a rhythm though they knew that neither would last as long as they would like. The sensations bombarding them were beyond their ability to endure for long. When Legolas had seen her crouched before him, with her warm lips and talented tongue delivering nerve shattering pleasure, he did not think that pleasure could be surpassed but he was wrong. Thrusting into her warmth, feeling her inner muscles tighten around him the more and more frenzied their lovemaking became, Legolas knew he was poised on the edge of something that would tear the soul from his body. Since meeting her, he had dreamed of this moment. Now that it was here and it was far sweeter than anything he might have imagined.

"Legolas!" Melia cried out as his pace increased and he was starting to pound into her relentlessly, every ounce of pent up desire finally finding its expression in masterfully delivered strokes of pleasure. Her insides were inflamed with incredible sensation and when she saw him pushing into her, the muscles of his bare chest glistening as it rubbed against her breasts, she felt a surge of lust for him that almost rivaled the lust in which he was taking her. Her hands found her way to his and Legolas pressed them against the wall, his palm clenched around hers in equal strength, as they were both gripped in the throes of unrelenting ecstasy.

"Do not stop my Prince!" She whimpered as she neared the threshold.

Melia was soaring higher and higher with each hard thrust of him into her, until she could hardly breathe for the pleasure of it. It had been so long since anyone had been able to make her feel so much. She had longed in her secret dreams to find that one person with whom she could share her desires and her soul, who would look into her heart and captured it the way she wanted. She never imagined the one to do so would be an elven prince. Melia could feel the approach of her release; it was like the sunrise in the horizon, filling her with warmth and heat, until she could see nothing else but its sheer brilliance.

Legolas could not form the thoughts to speak because he was now a creature of pure instinct and raw need. His jaw clenched as beads of sweat ran down his forehead and a fine sheen of moisture formed against his skin. He continued to move, feeling his breath shallow and sensing by the tension in her body as she neared the place he wished her to be. Suddenly, Melia’s muscles clenched around him and her fingers dug into his hands, giving him pain that only increased the excitement that ensnared him. He felt her release as it washed over his length like warm honey, oozing into his skin and increasing his pleasure until all he could do was open his mouth to groan.

Melia brushed her lips against his ear, suckled the pointed tips and felt the last vestiges of his control snap with that one act. His face melted and she decided that he never looked more beautiful then at this moment, when he had utterly lost control of himself and was finally about to yield to the beautiful symphony of sensual music they had created together. Feeling her lips upon his ear undid any control that remained and he slipped over the edge, drawn into a chasm of color and ecstasy.

"Melia!" Legolas cried hoarsely, pumping his seed into her with powerfully hard strokes, forcing every drop of himself into the deepest crevices of her body. It was like his soul had been freed, not simply his passion. Everything around him seemed to spin as his body shuddered in the wake of its satisfying release. His hands clenched around her as he began his descent, gasping in short breaths as he continued to thrust, determined to savor every bit of pleasure he could from this soul crushing eruption of delightful slick, warm heat.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear as he lay against her, exhausted and spent, knowing in his heart that while nothing had been resolved between them, everything else had changed. 


	6. Istar

Legolas woke up in Melia’s bed the next morning and found that he was alone.

He had expected to wake up to find her in his arms, the place where she had been nestled comfortably after they had hours spent in the confines of her room, making love repeatedly through the course of the night. As he took a deep breath and took in the lingering scent of her against the sheet, he was filled the memories of their passion the night before. He was uncertain of what he had expected their first coupling would be like and he was pleasantly surprised that she was able to match him in stamina and desire. It had all been about exploration and they did so fully, with all reservations and fears about the unhappy tragedy of their future all but forgotten. Each time he heard her call his name in wild abandon, he became convinced that he could never have another woman again, without wanting it to be her.

At an hour that was too late for either to remember, Legolas had finally succumbed to a happy but exhausted sleep with Melia lying against him in a similar state of weariness. They were both spent after hours of passion and Legolas remembered thinking, as he drifted into his dreams, that there was nothing finer than having her in his embrace after such a sensuous exchange. When he opened his eyes and discovered that the warmth of her body was not against him, his mind snapped quickly out of its fog to full alertness. He sat up immediately and allowed his gaze to sweep across the room, searching for her even though his senses told him that he was alone.

It was only when his eyes caught sight of the necklace lying against the pillow beside him, did he understand that she was gone.

There was no message left with the chain of gold but then its presence beside him was explanation enough and Legolas found himself staring at it, his jaw clenching with anger and despair at the understanding of what she had done. Climbing out of the bed, there was no need for any further investigation because he knew what he would find even before he sought it out. However, his heart refused to believe what his mind knew to be a certainty and he found himself compelled to seek out any hope that would allow him to believe that she had not simply left him after all they had been to each other the night before.

Unfortunately, there was none to find. All that was left of her presence in this room was the memory of their passion and the necklace he clutched in his hands in something of a daze. Everything that belonged to her while she had occupied this room was absent and Legolas wondered how much of this she had planned before she had given herself to him last night. Was that why she had allowed him to make love to her, because she was leaving him in the morning? Legolas knew that nothing had been solved in their heated passion but he had hoped that her willingness to trust him with her body might smooth the way to trusting him with her heart. Now it appeared, that had been his dream, not hers.

He would have been crushed with heartache if he were not so furious with her.

His anger kept the pain of her departure at reasonable levels and using its momentum, he dressed quickly and stormed out of her room, with every intention of going after her because she was not going to arbitrarily decided that this was the way things would go between them. He had attempted to be a gentlemen about this with her, tried his hardest to be sympathetic to her feelings but the truth was; she had inspired him into a proper fury and he was not going to simply suffocate its expression. It was time she listened to what he had to say instead of making her mind up for both of them.

Getting dressed quickly, he was a walking thunderstorm when he emerged down the hallway, striding forcefully to his own suite of room in the palace so that he could make haste in his pursuit after Melia. It was not to be underestimated the anger he felt at her for what she had done, for elves took their affairs seriously and this departure like a thief in the night had incensed him more than he thought possible. He supposed there was a certain irony to it all. In his lifetime, he had recalled being the one to depart in the morning with some benefice left behind to the lover who had shared the night with him. This was the first time that he had been on the receiving end of such a farewell. He dare say he did not like it very much.

He was walking past the throne room when he heard Thranduil’s voice calling out to him from the open doors. Legolas froze in his step, not wishing to explain to his father what his intentions were this morning especially when that intent would see him leaving court again. He had planned to slip away without notice, leaving word behind that he would be back once he had settled this matter with Melia. Taking a deep breath because there was no way he could avoid this confrontation now that his father had seen him, Legolas forced away the furious emotions running through him and returned himself to some semblance of calm.

"Father," he replied entering the room, his hand slipping the chain into the pocket of his tunic.

Thranduil was seated on top of his throne, his eyes studying some parchments that were no doubt reports of some kind pertaining to the business of his kingdom, appearing not all suspect that something might be wrong with his son. He did not raise his eyes to meet Legolas as his son approached, maintaining his gaze instead upon the papers before him.

"The housekeeper tells me that you did not sleep in your bed last night," Thranduil remarked casually.

Legolas flinched, feeling a little embarrassed that his activities last night had reached his father’s ears. Personally, he preferred to keep his affairs private even though realistically, this was Thranduil’s house and the king had a right to know what took place within it, no matter how personal the matter might be. It took a few seconds before he answered but when he did, Legolas decided that he owed his father an honest answer.

"No," he spoke finally. "I did not."

"I take it you were with that Ranger," Thranduil replied, his voice still indifferent and that only increased Legolas’ discomfort.

"Yes," he nodded. "I am a man grown, I do not think I have to account myself to you."

Thranduil looked up at him, his eyes softening but a little. "Son, she is gone."

Legolas stared at his father. "You know?"

"I was told by Nanaur that she departed at first light. Judging from the direction, she was returning to the Anduin."

"Why did no one tell me?" Legolas demanded, trying to remember that while he was addressing his father, he was also addressing the King of the Woodland Realms.

"Because I saw no reason to have anyone tell you," Thranduil replied, trying to be kind even though it might not seem that way at this moment to his angry son. "She decided to leave without telling you for good reason. I thought it best to respect her wishes."

"Her wishes!" Legolas swore out loud. "Does no one care anything for how I feel about all this? " He ranted, not expecting an answer but feeling the need to vent his frustration nonetheless.

"I know you are in love with her but can you not see that what she did was for the best?" Thranduil replied, aware that the words would not make it any easier for Legolas to accept the situation but was compelled to try at the sight of his son’s anguish.

"For the best?" Legolas glared at him in dismay, wondering how he could say that when suddenly he remembered the exchange between his father and Melia the night before. She had not told him what was said between them and now Legolas suspected that perhaps Thranduil might have said something to convince Meliaeven more that she should leave. "What did you say to her?" He accused.

Thranduil swallowed, realizing that the young woman had not betrayed him to Legolas. He tried to answer not as king but as a father and hoped that the boy would understand that what he had said to Melia was for the best. "I told her nothing that she did not already think, that anything between you two would ultimately end in tragedy."

Legolas did not say a word for a few seconds. The rage inside of him needed time to swell to uncontainable levels and when it did, he turned on his father viciously. "What gave you the right to decide that? My relationship with Melia is my personal affair! Not yours. You had no right to say anything to her! Do you know how difficult it was for her to even admit she felt anything for me? She has enough fears in her heart about what we could be to each other without you making things worse!"

"Do you have any idea what you are embarking upon by choosing a mortal, my son?" Thranduil defended himself with just as much determination. "Can you truly endure the pain of watching her grow older with each day, knowing that she will die and there is nothing you can do to prevent it? Do you know what it is like to lose someone you have been bound to? I lost your mother when you were a child and my heart has been cleaved in two ever since. I would spare you that pain. Your mother sailed to the Undying Lands so that we can be reunited some day, it will not be the same for you when Melia passes."

"Do you think I do not know that?" Legolas hissed in turn. "It breaks my heart to know that one day I will be without her but I can accept that if it means having her even for the scant span of her life. I know that I will not see her in the Undying Lands but when the world is done, perhaps we shall be reunited. No one can say for certain but I am not going to dwell on what cannot be or what may be for that matter, just on what  _is_. "

"It is not that simple," Thranduil protested wondering how Legolas could be so naïve even if he was three thousand years old. In truth, he knew that he was his mother’s son who felt things passionately. If he had ever known his mother, he might have realized how much alike they were but unfortunately that had not been. She had fallen ill after his birth and never recovered, as she should have even with the advances of elvish medicine. The only way to save her life had been to hasten her journey to the Undying Lands and that was three millennia ago. Three millennia of loneliness for the husband left behind.

"You may delude yourself," the king insisted, "but you know it to be true."

Legolas did not have time to argue. Each moment he spent debating the point with his father, was precious seconds where she was widening the distance between them. Perhaps it would be for nothing, this pursuit and when they caught up with one another, they would find themselves locked in the same stalemate. However, Legolas would not rest until he tried. "I am going after her father," he said finally, drawing away from the king’s presence. "I ask your leave to depart but know that if you refuse me, I shall go anyway."

"You think that I would hold you against your will?" Thranduil stared at him in shock.

"I think you would try to save me from myself," Legolas returned aware that he sounded unkind but he was angry that Thranduil had exacerbated Melia’s fears and possibly incited her to leave.

"You just came home," the king said sadly, his eyes filled with hurt at his son’s desire to leave.

It was at this that his heart softened a little towards his father. "I will return," he said sincerely meaning it. When he took permanent leave of his father and the Woodland Realm it would not be like this, where neither his father nor his kingdom would have time to accept what he was doing. "We have things to discuss father and I will do that face to face when the time comes but I must go after her."

"She will hurt you," Thranduil replied, trying to reach him one last time. "Think about what you are doing."

"I have thought about it," Legolas answered as he started to turn away. "But it is not my mind that controls my actions in this father, it is my heart and to its desires I am powerless."

"You have no inkling of what it truly feels like to be powerless, my son," the king stared after him sadly. "If you chose to make this woman your wife, you will understand all too well what it really means. What you feel now will be a splinter in comparison to the anguish you will endure when the times comes for her to pass out of this world."

Legolas paused briefly, absorbing what his father had said but if Thranduil thought he had not given the matter much consideration, then the king was greatly mistaken. He did know what he faced if Melia chose to be with him. He knew it from the moment he met her and while it had frightened him and still did, he knew he loved her and so there was no choice really.

"I love her father," he met his father’s eyes briefly. "If suffering eternal sorrow is the price I must pay for having her then that is how it will be."

With that, the prince turned away from his father and left the king to weep silently in his heart for his son.

* * *

It was not difficult for Legolas to discern where Melia was going once he set out upon her trail She was easy to locate because he knew the terrain she was crossing so intimately. He also knew which tracks were hers because the elves travelling across Eryn Lasgalen did not leave markers of their presence. Woodland elves were more than adept at moving through their realm without anyone being aware of them. Legolas himself knew this art well and was one of its best practitioners. Although Melia had taken care to ensure her departure from Thranduil’s court was as discreet as possible, not even a Ranger with her skill could remain hidden from the prince who was determined to find her.

While her tracks were easy enough to read in the woods she traveled, the reasons for her course was not easy to ascertain. All signs pointed to Melia returning to Dol Guldur, though Legolas for the life of him could not understand why. There was no reason for her to return to the place since it was clear that nothing remained there of her mother or of any clue that might lead to the whereabouts of the Istar who was the center of this entire mystery. Melia was no fool. She had understood this when they were at Dol Guldur together. Why would she return there when there was clearly nothing to find?

As it was, Legolas was greatly troubled by the possibility of the Istari being involved in this foul business. Melia had revealed that in her vision, she had seen an Istar at Dol Guldur in clear alliance with the Nazgul. While this was not unprecedented for Saruman was also an Istar who had cast his lot with Sauron, it made Legolas wondered why a wizard who was in service to the dark lord had not made his emergence during the War of the Ring. If an Istar was responsible for the disappearance of the River Women from Middle earth, then why had he remained silent when his master required him most? And why was he hidden still? Gandalf, possibly the greatest and the noblest of the Istari, had sailed across the western sea and Radagast was not far behind him. Saruman was dead at the hands of his own lackey and the whereabouts of the other remaining Istar was as much a secret as the one who had occupied Dol Guldur for so long.

Before leaving, Legolas inquired if Thranduil knew anything of an Istar that might have resided in Mirkwood at any time. The king had been able to offer him some scant information which was hundreds of years out of date and had little to do with the darkness that was emerging from the past of Dol Guldur. Two of the unaccounted Istari were said to have traveled to the far east of Middle earth upon arriving at Mithlond. These were called the Ithryn Luin, the "Blue Wizards". When Legolas was still a child, it seemed that one of these wizards, called Pallando, had journeyed through Mirkwood and had lingered at court for a brief time before continuing his journey southwards. Thranduil had no news of Pallando since then and assumed as many in Middle earth supposed, that the two had since taken the Straight Road back to the Undying Lands from where they had originated.

More than ever, Legolas wished Gandalf was still in Middle earth. The grey wizard would have been able to solve this mystery swiftly if he had been present. Unfortunately, Legolas sighed as he continued his pursuit of Melia, Gandalf was not here and he would have to solve this riddle himself. He had come to one conclusion since embarking upon this search with Melia, that she was possibly the key to everything, though he was uncertain where the lock was and how she was to be used to open anything. Goldberry, the daughter of the River Woman and wife to Iarwain Ben-adar in the Old Forest, would have been protected by her husband’s supremacy over his realm and it was almost certain that Goldberry’s father was not mortal as Melia’s was. Melia’s mind was human and perhaps its weakness allowed the visions to contaminate her thoughts with the terrible nightmares that had made little sense until she arrived at Dol Guldur.

_Sweet Valar!_

It came to him so suddenly why she was returning to Dol Guldur that its effect upon him was almost like a sharp blow. With that one discovery, the urgency in reaching that desolate place became an imperative and Legolas drove his horse hard to reach Melia quickly. He had no idea whether or not what she was attempting to do could kill her but he had seen its effects the last time she had made the attempt and knew that there was every possibility it could. Melia was more than stubborn and determined enough to try so dangerous a method in order to learn her mother’s fate at Dol Guldur, particularly since she had no other place to turn for the information.

Legolas cursed his foolishness as he forced his animal through the woods, trying to maintain a devastating pace he knew would not keep for too long. Melia was hours ahead of him and she was no fool. She knew how to maintain a brisk pace during travel and quite possibly, suspected that he might be in the mind to follow her. The Prince of Mirkwood wondered how a woman he loved with such untold abandon could be the cause of so much exasperation to one who had been alive for three millennia and had learnt the discipline of patience until he was in her company.

He was certain that not even the Valar had wisdom enough to answer that question.

Unfortunately, he had little choice but to press on and as his horse tore through the forests of Mirkwood, Legolas prayed that he would reach her in time or else he would learn what his father had warned him against, far sooner than he had possibly imagined.

* * *

This thing she intended to do was pure insanity. She knew that.

And yet here she was, standing before Dol Guldur, with a descending blanket of darkness behind it, preparing to step in the maw of evil the likes of which she had never known. Alone. More than anything, Melia wished Legolas was here. Despite all their troubles, he had the unfathomable ability to bring her strength when she needed it most. She certainly needed it now as she started over the barren space of land between her and the former citadel of Dol Guldur. If it had looked imposing by day, then by night it appeared positively sinister. Melia shuddered as she approached it and was revisited by all the same fears of the last time she was here.

Even though she knew there was no danger in the surrounding wood, Melia took no chances and crossed the piles of stones that made up the fortress walls with her crossbow in hand. Legolas had suggested that perhaps she carry a sword as well. She was not good with a blade though she knew how to use it. The construction of Middle earth blades tended to be broad swords, far too heavy for a woman to wield with any effectiveness. However, she had seen Eowyn’s sword and knew that the shield maiden of Rohan’s weapon was really a dagger fashioned with extra length in order to be used as a sword. She told herself that if she survive this, she would have to see about acquiring such a weapon.

As she stepped to the edge of the pit where the dungeons once were, Melia felt her entire being suffuse with mind numbing terror. The feeling of it was so intense that she was almost tempted to run away from this place and return to Thranduil’s court and Legolas’ arms. Thinking of him lessened the fear somewhat and she focussed on what had happened between them to distract her mind as she made her descent into the darkened pit. Above her, the moon was high and offered some light to guide her way but she could not ignore that it was still very dark down there. She thought of Legolas and found comfort in the memory of their joining during that hot and passionate night. Each time she thought of his lips against hers, the way his eyes clouded in desire when his body could endure no more sensation and succumbed to his release, she found herself needing him more than ever.

It ached inside her the moment she slipped out of his arms that morning and started riding towards Dol Guldur. She was not surprised that no one made any effort to stop her departure. They probably thought it was for the best, as well. Only Nunaur, the king’s captain had confessed some sadness at seeing her go when she encountered him in the stables. It was easy to see that Nunaur was a true friend of Legolas because he told her unashamedly that the Prince had never been as happy as he was in her company. Melia wondered what Thranduil would have thought of his captain if he had learnt of the man’s words. Melia had hoped the yearning for Legolas would cease when she put some distance between them but it had not. The yearning for him was beyond her ability to describe. Over the next two days of her journey, her mind kept wandering and when it did, it almost always found its way to the Prince.

Melia knew she was in love with him but until she left Legolas, she did not realize how much.

When Melia reached the floor of the pit, even thoughts of her lover could not assuage the cold naked fear she felt as she found herself surrounded by dungeons where great atrocities were committed. Sauron had walked this very floor and his evil had soaked into the earth. No amount of time would ever be able to cleanse this place fully, despite the elves’ best efforts. It would always be a scar of darkness to remind those who came in the future of what evil once preyed upon this place. She took a deep breath as she saw the dungeon where the terrible vision had come upon her and knew that is where she had to go. She had been careful not to touch anything until now but if she wanted her answers that was going to have to change.

Closing her eyes as she reached the bars of the dungeon, Melia told herself that whatever the consequences of this, she was ready to accept it. She had lived a life where her destiny was hers to choose and if she were to die now, she knew that at least she had known love and shared one night with her prince. She only hoped that if the worst came to pass, he would understand why she had done this. Outstretching her fingers, Melia wrapped her hand around the bars and let what had to be, happen.

Its effect upon her was no less potent than before and immediately, that searing pain filled her mind and forced a scream from her. No one heard the silent cry that tore through the night and if anything stirred in the wood around Dol Guldur, it certainly did not care. Melia had been right about one thing when she embarked upon this course and that was that she was alone.

Utterly and truly alone.

* * *

_There was no weeping._

_Just screaming. Loud, anguished wails of pain and torture, tearing the night apart like the angry cry of a soul being ripped apart, a piece at a time. Its sound was like music to those who ruled the fortress of Dol Guldur and those not shrouded in darkness but forced to endure the proximity of such an evil place could only shudder in fear as they heard its assault upon their ears. There was struggle to the helpless screams and as it grew in pitch and intensity, the struggles weakened to almost nothingness._

_The Nazgul watched the Istar work, using magic that was never intended for the purpose it was currently being employed. Even the Nazgul for all its allegiance to Sauron was not the same as the two beings presently in the cell with him. Both had been creations of the Valar in some way or another, Maiar as they were called by the First Born. Even Sauron had begun his existence as Maiar to the dark lord Melkor and in turn had gave life to the Nazgul and the other dark creatures of shadow that served him so loyally._

_The Maiar female was chained to the wall, far from the source of her strength. The particular type that she was ensured that once away from her natural environment, she was very susceptible to manipulation. She and the others like her had been systematically hunted down, trapped and enslaved before being returned here in secret to Dol Guldur. The capture of the River Women had been a task as laborious as the continuing search for the One Ring but what Saurondemanded, his servants were compelled to do._

_The Istar clearly did not have the stomach for what needed to be done which was why the Nazgul was required to look over his shoulder constantly, to ensure the work progressed despite his weakness. On this occasion particularly, his presence was needed to ensure the Istar did not falter in the execution of the intricate spell that was presently making the Maiar female scream with such agony. The Istar was trying not to be affected by the screams or the terrible effect his powers was having upon the female Maiar as the spell did its worst._

_The Nazgul smiled beneath its hood in what it could almost consider pleasure at the Istar’s attempt to hide his anguish. The Nazgul had selected this Maiar female as the first to be subjected to the transmogrification spell because she was the Istar’s favorite. The Istar had protested bitterly but upon realizing that there was never a choice in the matter, had grimly obeyed without further protest. The spell was sending waves upon waves of power through the room and even Sauron’sservant was impressed by how powerful these Maiar could be when properly motivated. If the Istar wanted, it was possible for him to leave Dol Guldur and none of them would be able to stop him but the wizard’s fear of Sauron was growing. He knew that the dark lord was far from vanquished and within these walls, the potency of Sauron’s power could be felt most overtly._

_Even as she screamed fiercely, her struggles had begun to wane. Her flesh was beginning to boil under her skin. It bubbled like the dark sludge of a marsh bog and lifted muscle and sinew from her bones as the spell’s purpose began to shape her body. The chains held her in place but the Nazgul doubted she was strong enough to stand, let alone break through them._

_The Istar’s spell was done; there was no turning back now._

* * *

_The ring of power had been found._

_The Nine were being recalled to Minas Morgul to be given instructions. It was said that they would be sent after the one who carried the One Ring. At Dol Guldur, an atmosphere of charged anticipation had come into being since the discovery of the One Ring. It seemed the culmination of everything they had been working towards these many years had finally reached fruition. Barad-dur was rebuilt and the Orcs had increased in numbers. Slowly but surely, they were retaking lands that had once belonged to Mordor while Sauron himself was gathering his forces from all corners of Middle Earth. He was making unlikely allies and those allies were telling him to turn his eyes to the lands of the Periannath, were the legendary halfings were known to reside._

_The work had continued steadily for so many years but for the Istar, it had come too soon. The work, which should have been his crowning achievement, had become his bane and now he was trapped almost as helplessly as the pure souls he had used to make it possible. Things were moving far too swiftly for his liking for he knew that once Sauron reacquired the One Ring, he would launch his assault upon Middle earth, anticipating the presence of the warriors he had cultivated for this purpose._

_It was not the Istar’s desire to create a soldier but instead to fashion a creature possessing the singular beauty of the elves and the fiery passion of men. He wanted to create a new race that was capable of beauty and endurance and in his determination to do so, he never considered once how that work could be twisted into something so terrible that neither race would be able to withstand its assault. The Nazgul lord who oversaw his work had departed Dol Guldur at Sauron’s call, leaving the Istar alone for the first time in too long._

_The Istar stood within the cell of his favourite, favourite because she had been so strong while at the same time because of all the others, she had been the one who wept more bitterly at her incarceration. He knew only her name and there was talk of a lover and possibly a child, for in her torture, she would utter names that were unfamiliar to him because they were not the names of her sisters. The wreckage of her remained in the cell; something that was once beauty personified had now been completely recreated into a horrific parody of life. Within her cocoon of flesh she remained encased, only a faint outline of her body could be seen through the viscous environment._

_He had one chance to end this before the nightmare became any worse than it already was. He had to take it now before she and the others emerged from the pods within which they were metamorphosing. The orcs who had remained here in place of the Nazgul knew what he was and feared him. He could do what was needed and disappear. Middle earth was on the brink of war; it was entirely possible that Sauron would be too busy with his plans of conquest to bother about one Istar and the twisted fruit of his misguided dreams. He would take them far away from Dol Guldur and hide in the belly of the earth, perhaps the Grey Mountains and be forgotten._

_With enough time, he might be able to undo what he had wrought upon them. Perhaps he might even be able to save them. He did not know if this hope was possible, only that he had to try. He had to try before the process was complete, before they emerged from their cocoons._

_Before they woke up._

* * *

_Scrape._

_Scrape._

_Scrape._

_The sound filled the world almost as completely as the overwhelming darkness. The darkness was the world, its sides pressed against her, wet sliminess against her skin. She pushed against it but it would not yield. It was like being trapped in amber that had hardened around her. She could move inside its hollow innards but she could not escape. Her nails raked the membrane around her but it would not tear, it simply stretched taunting her with the possibility of rupture. Fluid filled her ears, oozing into her terrified mind. She took a breath and it only followed the path into her lungs, making her cough. She opened her mouth and it flowed down her throat, blocking her scream._

_The need to escape was overwhelming but she could not even see where she was because the darkness was everywhere. There was a faint memory that it was not always like this, that there was a time when there was light and sounds that was not this slow, turgid flow of liquid that filled her eardrums. There were memories buried in a place so deep that it was no longer possible for her to remember anything, except the disconcerting sensation when she tried to bring them into focus._

_Sometimes, she could feel someone beyond her prison, someone close that whispered to her soft things. His voice was always filled with great sorrow and sometimes, she could almost remember him but the uneasy feeling would evolve into physical pain and she would be driven to abandon the effort. However, the overwhelming imperative of her existence was to escape the cage she found herself in and so she clawed again at the moist walls around her, praying that someday the strength would be given her to finally break through._

_Someday, she would get out._

* * *

She woke up gasping.

Her first impulse had been to scream but somehow she had managed restraint in the dreamscape. Melia sat up struggling for breath as she tried to control the intense fear that coursed through her heart. Little about her surroundings effected her at first because the terror had more or less shunted aside such thoughts. What she had seen stayed in her mind. Vivid images of things she could not possibly know but was certain to be true because she knew they had taken place inside the cell where she had attempted her dangerous experiment. She had hoped to find some clue as to where her search should take her next and instead succeeded in opening a door inside her mind that revealed more than just a destination. She had never expected the potency of evil to invade her as it did and supposed that the darker things in the world were often the ones that endured the best.

It was certainly true of Dol Guldur whose walls and foundations still carried the stain of its sinister past. Every terrible act that had been committed within its boundaries, every tortured cry of pain and drop of blood spilled was as much apart of Dol Guldur as its bricks and stone. Melia did not know how she was able to see what she had and she was certain that sharing her mother’s blood had something to do with her ability but there was no doubt in her mind that everything she saw was real. Everything she felt in that nightmarish place was the truth.

It was at this point that Melia realized that it was daylight. The sun shone above her head through the canopy of leaves and she saw that she was surrounded by forest. She was lying on her bedroll; a blanket draped over her where she had lain for who knew how long and the smell of something cooking was on the fire at the center of the campsite. Melia saw her horse and another waiting patiently under the shade of the tree they were tethered to, nickering at each other in their secret language. She recognized the steed next to her own and supposed she should not be surprised by its presence here. Her gaze swept across the campsite but saw no sign of its rider.

After a moment of contemplation of what would soon be upon her, Melia attempted to stand and found her legs rather shaky. She wondered just how long she had been unconscious. Her mind still felt drowsy from her slumber and it was a few seconds before she was able to brave a step forward. When she did however, her legs ached from the sudden demand for activity. She walked gingerly to the horses that raised their heads in interest at her approach and almost appeared as if they were glad to see a human amongst them. Melia stroked the brow of her horse gently before running her hand over the flank of the other.

"Where is your master?" she asked gently as she petted the horse.

The horse had no ability to answer other than to snap its head back in reaction to a change in environment. Melia turned around and found Legolas standing across the fire, staring at her. He was carrying his bow, indicating to Melia that he had just made a quick scout of the area to ensure they were safe. His first reaction upon seeing her was relief but then he did not speak and his blue eyes bore into her mercilessly. Under the scrutiny of that gaze, Melia had no defense and she was revisited by the memory of their last meeting.

"You came after me?" She asked after a few minutes of staring.

"You left." Legolas returned. "I had little choice but to follow."

"You found me?" She ventured a guess, imagining the fear he must have felt in coming to Dol Guldur and finding her in that cell. Melia immediately felt intensely guilty for making him endure such anxiety.

"Yes," he nodded slowly. "You were unconscious for almost a day. I thought your mind may have been lost forever."

"I am sorry to have made you endure such fear," Melia apologized and somehow guessed that it would not nearly be enough to soothe his anger, for despite the concern she could see in his eyes, Melia could also see his rage. Rage he was keeping under tight restraint. "It was the only way I could find him."

"Did you?" He asked tautly.

"Yes," she nodded, suddenly feeling as if she were a badly behaved child. "I think the Istar went to the Grey Mountains to hide. I am not certain of everything I saw but he did something to his prisoners, something that he did not wish."

"I see," Legolas nodded. "Then we will go there."

Melia raised her eyes to his. "We?"

"Yes," he nodded slowly, his jaw flinching in controlled rage. The tension between them was so thick that it could have been run through with a sword. "We will go there together and deal with what menace he has wrought upon your mother’s people."

"I cannot ask you to do that…" she started to say

"It seems that there is very little that you can ask me." Legolas retorted as the last vestiges of his restraint finally snapped free. "How could you do that? How could you simply leave? Without even the decency of a word of farewell? After what we shared together, I thought I meant more than for you to simply depart as if I were a strumpet at an inn to be left when the sun arose!"

"I thought I did what was best," she struggled to explain but he was right in this. She  _had_  behaved badly. The more resolute she was to her decision to keep away from him, the more she had broken the rules of conduct between them.

"What was best?" He glared at her. "Do you know how sick to death I am of hearing what is best for us?" He roared and she jumped a little by the sharpness of his voice. It was quite something to hear the controlled elf suddenly lose his temper for it was like a storm had suddenly exploded into being in the midst of beautiful day. Legolas crossed the distance between them and was standing before her in seconds.

"I woke up that morning filled with hope," he replied softly. "I thought that perhaps we may find happiness together. You speak as if I have a choice in my decision to love you. I have no more ability to harden my heart against my love than you do. You wish to spare me but what you do not understand is that it is too late, I love you! I will love you until the end of time, whether or not you stay with me or leave now forever. I have done all that I can to convince you. If it were possible for me to become mortal such as the Evenstar has chosen, I would do so without thinking twice but that way is not open to me. I seek desperately to reconcile our lives so we can share what time we have together while we still can."

Melia did not know what to say. All she knew was that since she had left Thranduil’s court, her heart had been a heavy stone inside her breast and each time she allowed her mind to drift, invariably it would drift to the Prince of Mirkwood. He was a part of her now, no matter how much she sought to deny it. Yet fear still lingered in her heart for she knew what was at the heart of her refusal. She had not wanted to say it because she had clung to it for so long but now was the time when the words they could not speak must be uttered if anything good was to come out of this.

"I am frightened," she replied simply and it was from the heart.

His gaze softened, understanding that at last the Ranger had stepped aside, it was the woman speaking now. "Of what are you frightened? That I will hurt you?"

"That you will leave me," she answered, her eyes glistening. "I do not wish to become like my father."

"Your father?" He stared at her in confusion. "I do not understand."

Melia exhaled deeply because it was so hard to speak of this. "My father met my mother on the banks of the Anduin where I was born. When I was but an infant, he chose to return home and he wished my mother to come with him. The morning we were to leave, she was nowhere to be found. He waited for her to come back but she never did and finally he left without her. It broke his heart to be abandoned by her; he never recovered from it. I swore that I would never spend my life pining for someone the way he did. He loved me dearly but each time he looked at me, he saw the love that he could never have again."

"Do you think I would leave you?" Legolas came to her, his hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes.

"I do not know," she started to weep and the tears he saw running down her cheeks were enough to break the back of his anger completely, until all he wished to do was bundle her in his arms and promise her that he would never walk away from her. Not while there was breath in his body.

"I only know that I fear someday you will tire of me when this woman you love grows old and withered. I cannot bear the thought that you would look at me and feel yourself bound to me out of obligation. I never want to know that pain."

Legolas drew her to him in a tender kiss and whispered in her ear as he held her close. "I promise you on all that I hold dear, that I will never leave you. I love you Melia and if it means that I can only be with you in a flicker of time that is your life, then I will accept it as long as I spend what years there are with you."

Melia could not see so far ahead but for the moment, she chose to believe him. Perhaps what love they held for one another would be enough to sustain them through the years and perhaps it would not. For now, Melia would not ponder too deeply that question because she did not know what her future held. Finding her mother had been the most important thing in her life for so long and until she fulfilled the quest, she could not think of anything else.  

"Legolas," she took a deep breath and placed her hand gently against his cheek as she looked into his eyes. "I cannot think of my future until this quest is done. For now, please know that I love you but I need time to deal with all this. I am still afraid and I think that what we have is doomed to failure but I cannot deny how I feel or ignore it. Let us leave things as they are between us now and I swear to you when this is all done, I will know my mind. You said you would aid me in finding my answers, do you still hold to that?"

"You know I do," he answered, his arms still about her as he absorbed what she had to say. He did not agree with her words but he understood her need for time. As much as he wanted her in his life, he also had patience enough to know that her admitting the truth to him went a long way to aiding their cause. Melia had more or less succumb to their fate together, she was simply too stubborn to admit it. He was not so ignorant that he could not see what a tremendous step this was for her and he was willing to accommodate her the rest of the way.

"Help me find the truth, my love," she whispered as her lips sought his and they indulged in a searing kiss of deep, smoldering passion. "Help me understand who I am so I can chose my fate with you."

Legolas’ response was to kiss her back with the same intensity, until their mouths were dueling each other with such demand that they lowered to the ground and reminded themselves why they were so perfectly made for each other under the warmth of the afternoon sun.

* * *

At dawn’s break, they set out again, this time crossing Mirkwood in order to reach the Grey Mountains. Melia believed that the Istar was there and if he were there, so would her mother be. Legolas was grateful to see that she was slowly accepting the idea of his being a part of her life and knew with more confidence than he felt before that their future did lie together, despite her protestations of it being folly. Melia seemed more comfortable with having him at her side and Legolas could not deny that the day they had spent under the stars, adjusting to this new part of their relationship, exploring each other without the entire court of Mirkwood watching closely what they were doing, was very liberating. When they were alone, they were simply Legolas and Melia, two lovers caught in the same net, not the Prince ofMirkwood or the Ranger. Legolas almost wished it could be like this always.

The journey to the Grey Mountains or Ered Mithrin as it was known to the elves would require them crossing the length of Mirkwood. Legolas had traveled that far north in his time, though when he last visited it had been to settle a quarrel between the Woodland Realm and the dwarves who resided deep in the mountain. The issue had been one of passage and the dwarves resented it greatly that the fastest route from the Anduin to their domain required them crossing the Woodland Realm of the elves. The old prejudices were heavy in those days and Legolas remembered coming to a very uneasy alliance with Durin, the dwarf lord who spoke for his people. Of course, the city of Durin and his people were no more and though Legolas did not speak of their fate to Melia, it preyed heavily upon his mind what they would find when they arrived there.

As far as he knew the mountains were a nest to cold drakes who by nature were hoarders of wealth and had driven out the dwarves from their city and taken their city. Since that time however, little was heard of the drakes though it was believed they were no more for travelers who journeyed through the mountains to reach the city of Esgaroth, were not menaced by the fearsome creatures.

What concerned Legolas more than the drakes as they journeyed eastward was not the drakes however, but the goblins that were known to occupy the lands between Mirkwood and Ered Mithrin. In recent years, the goblins that had been driven from Dol Guldur were content to remain within the lonely lands in between the great forest and mountain, taking refuge in rock hills where the sunlight would not touch them. On occasion, they emerged far enough to bedevil the elves of the Woodland Realm and though Thranduil had yet to mount an expedition to destroy them completely, it was only a matter of time before the campaign to finish them once and for all was put into effect.

It was an easy enough business to cross Mirkwood in good time, Legolas chose to follow the Forest River, which would bring them to the mountains soon enough. However, once they reached the edge of the Woodland Realm and began moving towards the mountains, the prince’s wariness grew. His senses began to feel an uneasiness encroaching upon them the instant they set their horses towards the mountains and though he could not understand what the danger was, he felt it in every fiber of his being. Even though it still remained in the distance ahead, Legolas could feel its soft whisper. It reminded him a little of the One Ring and its ability to coax the sanest mind into committing all kinds of atrocities to satiate avarice and ambition. Yet this was different, as if the land itself was crying out in despair from some place they had yet to reach.

"What is it?" Melia asked once they had left Mirkwood behind them and traveled through lands which were unfamiliar to most of Middle earth, save the few who had reason to wander this far from the north. Her feelings for him gave her some insight into his moods and as they crossed the field of tall grass into the trees that framed the range of mountains in the distance, she saw a dark expression marring his handsome face that prompted her question.

"Nothing," he said simply, having no wish to alarm her, feeling more conscious of the looming darkness of night and made a mental note that they should make camp soon.

"You do not have a face that says nothing," Melia retorted. "You have a face that tells me that something plagues your thoughts greatly but you do not wish to tell me for you fear causing me undue worry."

Legolas gave her a look with a brow raised, "I have a face that says all that?"

"Oh yes," she remarked with a teasing smile. "You cannot hide anything from me."

"I will remember that if we are ever married," Legolas muttered with a frown, uncertain whether or not he liked being read so well.

"You had better," she winked playfully but her tone soon became sober once again. "So what is it you do not wish to tell me?’

"A threat grows near," Legolas confessed after a moment. "I can feel its presence growing in my mind. It comes from the mountains."

Melia stiffened immediately, her eyes staring ahead at the irregular shape of the mountains in the distance. "I know of what you speak. I feel it too."

"You do?" He looked at her.

"Not in the way you do," she added quickly. "I do not need elven senses to see that there is danger here. Too much is an unknown about the lands before us and that is always dangerous."

"It is more than that," Legolas confessed. "Until Dol Guldur, I had not given much thought about these things but since you revealed to me that you believe the Istarmay have traveled to Ered Mithrin, I have had time to consider what has happened in the region of late. Particularly, since the War of the Ring."

"Of what do you speak?" She stared at him hard, seeing that he was clearly troubled by this.

"Since the War, the goblins of Dol Guldur have fled beyond Mirkwood and remain trapped in the rocky terrain between the mountain and the forest. The mountain with its darkness is the perfect thriving ground for goblins but they do not go there. They stay clear of it. It was believed that perhaps the cold drakes that vanquished the dwarves of Durin’s line still inhabited the mountain but they have not been heard of for many centuries. So why do the goblins not go there? What frightens a goblin away from the dark places of the world?"

Melia could understand his apprehension and began to fear it herself. Her thoughts lingered on the Istar who had used his magic on her mother and the other River women. What had he done exactly to them to fear his own spell that he needed to spirit them away like thieves in the night? She had fears that she dared not speak but she had to because he was risking his life to help her because of his love and she owed him the right to the truth but there were questions she needed answering.

"Legolas, what do you know of Saruman?"

Legolas looked at her sharply.

"A great deal," Legolas replied remembering the experiences the Fellowship had endured because Saruman the Wise had become Saruman the betrayer. "He was one of the Istari as you know, the head of the Order, Mithandir has said."

"Mithandir," Melia asked before realizing he meant Gandalf. "What happened to him? What made him become Sauron’s servant?"

"I do not know, I do not think even Gandalf could comprehend it," Legolas said sadly. "They had come to Middle Earth in the second age, all five of them. Their purpose was to battle the evil of Sauron. I think there comes a time when one studies the enemy to such a degree that one can become consumed by it. I think Saruman’s intention had been to learn Sauron’s ways to defeat him and in the end, all he did was become him."

"They say that he made the Uruk Hai," Melia asked. "That he bred orcs and goblins is that true?"

"No," Legolas shook his head, "their creation was Sauron’s work alone but Saruman created his own Uruk Hai and ensured they were loyal to him. By the time the War of the Ring had come to Middle earth, his intention was to take the ring for himself."

"That is something at least," Melia sighed deeply. "Prince, when I dreamed in Dol Guldur I saw something that I must tell you. I have always intended to find my mother but I expected that she would not be woman that bore me for the dreams I have grown up with prepared me for the worse. I knew something terrible had happened to her though I knew she was not dead. I never doubted that. What I saw at Dol Guldur explains some of it but not enough."

Legolas saw Melia’s eyes had become full of emotion and understood how hard this was for her to admit, that her quest may be for naught but she was driven anyway because she had to know the truth. However, painful it might be. Astride his horse next to hers, Legolas reached for her hand and held it tight within his. He offered her a smile that told her that however this journey ended, she could be assured that he would be at her side to see it through.

"Tell me," he coaxed gently. "What does it explain?"

"The Istar wanted to create something, something better than elves and men. He wanted to be a creator of life as the Valar and Melkor sought to do. I think Sauronlearned of what he intended and, under the guise of aid I suppose, he tricked the Istar into fashioning something new, something that has not walked the earth before. I think that whatever he sought to create, he did so using my mother and the other River women."

The enormity of what Melia was saying horrified Legolas intensely for it was more than just abomination, it was twisted and evil in a way that sent a cold chill through his entire being. He had thought being in the balrog’s presence had been fearful enough but this was even more terrible. The River Women were Maiarspirits, intensely powerful though their power lay in the rivers that gave them life. How would they be when that power was twisted into something else?

"You think that the Istar has turned your mother and her kind into creatures of darkness?"

"Creatures yes," Melia nodded. "Darkness, I do not know. I only saw that it was against their will that they were made into whatever the Istar intended, that even he after a time became afraid of their power and was forced to take them from Dol Guldur before Sauron was able to unleash them upon his enemies."

"If that is so," Legolas looked at her, "where have they been all this time?"

Melia shook her head and was about to answer when suddenly a sound was heard and Legolas sprang towards her like a coiled serpent lunging from his saddle. He toppled her from her own horse and they both landed on the soft ground with a heavy thud. Melia was about to demand what he was about when she saw her horse standing on its hind quarters, braying in pain at the arrow that had struck its neck. Blood was spurting from the exposed flesh and another arrow soon joined its mate. Legolas’ own steed, smelling the blood of its kindred began to stamp its feet in anxiety.

"Goblins!" Legolas cried out, recognizing the arrow well. The darkness around them ensured their enemy would soon be upon them.

As he made that exclamation, Melia’s steed, which had been easy to shoot for its color of snow, had taken the worst of the goblins’ marksmanship. The animal had dropped to its haunches and Legolas grabbed her hand and pulled her towards his horse, aware that their survival rested in putting as much distance between themselves and the goblins that would soon attack in greater numbers. Melia scrambled to her feet, allowing him to drag her forward. He climbed onto the horse just as an arrow swept past him and embedded its point into a nearby tree. Melia paused long enough to retrieve her crossbow but she agonized at leaving a wounded beast to the ministrations of the goblins. Unfortunately, there was little choice in the matter as she took Legolas’ outstretched hand and climbed on behind him.

The horse bolted with arrows flying after them. One tore through the fabric of her leggings, cutting close enough for her skin to bleed. Melia winced in pain but knew the injury was minor. Her arms slid around Legolas' waist as he rode hard through the wood, intending to reach the river if possible. Suddenly another hail of arrows flew at them from a different direction, forcing the prince to veer the horse from the track they were taking, into an another direction. Melia looked over her shoulder and she could see them, the goblins moving in the darkness and the shadows and felt her heart freeze at just how many of them there were. They were like insects, scurrying out from underneath a rotting log when it was lifted and exposed to the sun.

Legolas could hear water rushing and knew that if they had to, they would ride into the river for goblins did not like water and were prone to stay away from anything so pure. More arrows came at them and Legolas knew that they could not avoid them forever and shifted his course again even though he started to suspect they were being herded like sheep. Realizing that to follow the path the goblins would have them take would lead to disaster, the prince forced the horse to turn back towards the path of the arrows, intending to break the blockade at all costs.

"Keep your head low!" He ordered and Melia took refuge in his shoulder as he himself lowered his head and prepared to break through their trap one way or another.

The horse thundered forward through the uphill track, past trees and rocks, a slave to its master’s demands when suddenly it came to such an abrupt halt that it did not entirely stop even though the beast had ceased to gallop. Too late did Legolas see what it was that made the animal brake so sharply and could do nothing but come to the unhappy conclusion that perhaps goblins would not be the death of them after all.

The river would.

"What’s going on…." Melia demanded when she felt herself being propelled forward by the combination of their great speed and the sudden stop that followed it. Her words turned into a scream as all three toppled over the edge of the cliff into the dark waters of the churning river below.


	7. Dimulmaion

****They hit the water hard but not enough to damage themselves from the great height they had fallen because Legolas’ horse landed first and broke the surface tension of the river before he and Melia plunged into it. A blanket of cold water immediately swirled in overhead as the momentum of their fall forced them almost to the bottom of the river. It was hard to keep stock of each other after such a tumultuous landing and all Legolas could do when the black waters hid the sky from him was to follow the course the bubbles emerging from his mouth to reach the surface. Beneath the river, it was absolute dark, not even sunlight guided them to air. He could not see Melia at all and that filled him with some sense of panic. It did not help matters that the current of the river was strong and was sweeping them further down its length with each passing moment.

"PRINCE!" He heard a panicked cry as soon as he broke the surface and emerged into the night air again.

Legolas’ eyes searched immediately for his lover and found her not far behind him. She had managed to surface long enough to utter that frantic cry and he soon saw why she had called, because she was clawing frantically to stay a float. It took but a second to realize that she was not swimming or threading water for that matter. She could not swim! Legolas immediately broke into powerful strokes as he fought the current to reach her. However, the white frothing waters around him did not make it easy. He took a deep breath and dove under the waves, swimming unhindered once he was beneath the onrush of water.

The elf reached Melia just as she faltered in her battle to stay afloat, her hand clawing desperately for something to keep her above the surface when she began to descend into the depths of the Forest River. With far more speed than he thought himself capable of, Legolas surged towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, as she became completely submerged in the icy water. Securing his arm around her, Melia immediately did the same around his neck and clung on for dear life as he used their collective buoyancy to push them both to the surface.

When they broke the surface, Melia was gasping greedily for air she had been denied almost to the point of death when he had reached her. She clung to him tightly as he tried to steer them towards the embankment but her added weight upon him and the strength of the river would not allow them to break free of its powerful currents. Legolas tried to catch sight of their horse and saw that the steed had been born further down river. Suddenly, something surge into the water near his ear and as he followed its direction, saw the goblins were staring at them from the edge of the small cliff over which they had fallen. The creatures were hissing at them in fury at their escape but were not about to relent in their pursuit. They were soon descending the cliff by way of the incline that led to the shore, hoping to ensnare their prey when he and Melia emerged from the river.

"Hold on," he ordered over the sound of the rushing water and she complied with a frightened nod as he let himself relax no longer fighting the flow of the river. The rushing water was more than happy to accommodate them as it swept them further down its length, until they were moving so fast that it was difficult to keep track of the enemy and almost as difficult to keep the river from claiming them permanently.

The river carried them further downstream for how long, neither Melia or Legolas could say but the goblins seemed to falter in their pursuit after a time. The water had frozen their limbs beyond tolerable levels and it was very necessary for them to leave its cold behind or else they would be seriously chilled and possibly take ill. Neither had any desire to have that eventuality befall them, especially since it felt as if they were on the edge of the world or beyond it perhaps. Legolas knew that if his elvish endurance was teetering to the point where he was unable to withstand their situation any further, Melia’s state would be even worse. He searched the shoreline and saw no evidence of their pursuers but he could not be sure. He sensed danger all around them, not from any specific place so he could not tell whether or not it was safe to make for the embankment.

Legolas caught side of his steed staggering out of the water, the creature appeared exhausted as its hooves dug into the shale beach. It shook the water off its body and did not appear uneasy as it had been during their flight from the goblins. It was still dark overhead and would be so for many hours but Legolas knew they could not stop here. It would not be truly safe in this area until the sun was above them once again. He started swimming towards the edge, deciding that the nearest shore was as good as any to make their emergence. Fortunately, his bow and arrows had remained fastened to his body as well as did Melia’s crossbow. If there were to encounter the enemy, at least they would be far from defenseless.

After what seemed an eternity, they arrived at the shore, almost completely exhausted from the effort because the weight of their clothes and their weapons had increased the load upon them considerably. Legolas was rather surprised that they had managed to remain afloat whilst battling the river but would not question what little consolation that was to be had from their present crisis. Upon crawling onto the embankment, they collapsed heavily against the sand, succumbing briefly to their ordeal in the river. Melia was already starting to shiver against the icy cold water against her skin but she was doing her best to tolerate it.

"How is it," Legolas said through his exhausted breath when he finally turned to her, "that you can ride as well as any man, shoot a bow better than most, fight  _and_  I might add curse like even the most hardened of warriors and somehow in all that accomplishment, forget to learn how to swim?"

Melia scowled at him darkly, "I do come from the Sunlands you know, there is not a great deal of water there. What little there is we conserve for bathing and drinking, not anything as frivolous as swimming."

"But you have been in Middle earth for some time, did you never think to learn?" He asked.

"No!" She declared defensively. "Do you know how to sew?"

"I am a Prince of Mirkwood," he retorted with great dignity. "I am not required to know such things. Besides what use is it to me?"

"Exactly," she grumbled, wringing the water out of her hair and quickly scanning the surrounding trees. "We need to get out of here," she muttered.

Legolas was already on his feet and striding towards the horse that had sighted his master and came in search of their familiar scent, waterlogged as it might be. For someone who was soaked to the skin, he moved with surprising speed and made Melia swear under her breath when she stumbled about like an infant on unsteady legs, in her saturated clothes. She needed to get warm but could not even think about a fire or anything resembling a campfire until they were well away from here. While there was still darkness about them, there was no reason to assume that the goblins would have given up their pursuit and if they had not, then they were most likely converging upon the riverbank even as she and Legolas stood upon it.

"The saddle is gone," Legolas noted with a frown as he noticed the bare back of the animal. Fortunately, the reins still remained but everything else was swept away by the river. Legolas decided not to complain for he was accustomed to riding Arod in such a manner but was uncertain if Melia was capable. "We will need to ride double," he stated as he took hold of the reins and steadied the animal in order to mount it.

"All right," Melia nodded, loosening the fasteners that held her crossbow in place across her back. Her stores of bolts had dwindled substantially for some had been washed away in the river. Only a handful remained in her possession and she was not happy of this fact. They were hard to replace at the best of times and out here in the middle of nowhere, it was damn near impossible. As Legolas slipped onto the steed’s back, he outstretched his hand towards her. Melia caught his arm as he pulled her up and she nestled behind him comfortably.

"We must move now," Legolas suddenly replied, digging his heels into the horse’s flank and sending the animal surging towards the cover of trees.

She did not need to ask why when a band of goblins burst out of the shadows. The closest one ran across the ground with surprising speed towards them, brandishing a cruel looking mace that was meant to disable the horse. Melia raised her crossbow without thought and let fly a bolt of steel. It embedded itself in the goblin’s forehead and the creature barely had time to offer a shriek before dropping dead in its tracks. Not that there were not already enough of the foul beings to take its place.

Legolas had already forced them into moving but the horse was struggling to pass the goblins that were beginning to swarm around them. Surging ahead nonetheless, the noble steed hastened the pace of its momentum as its hooves sought firmer ground than the soft shale of the shore. Nostrils flaring, the horse snapped its teeth at the goblins attempting to approach it and the riders entrusted in its care. The shadow warriors retreated a little but not enough for they were determined to attack and concerted themselves in an effort to push Legolas and Melia off the animal when it appeared that they might escape.

From the corner of her eye, through all the flurry of activity about them, Melia saw two goblins closing in on them, one raising a dagger to impale the horse or its rider, whichever it reached first. Melia aimed her crossbow at the vile creature, ending the threat of him before he could strike while Legolas kicked the other away and returned his focus to escaping the vulnerable position in which they found themselves. He reached for one his daggers, tucked neatly with his bow and slashed wildly at the forces attempting to converge upon them as they tried to slip past the line of goblins. Fortunately, the goblin archers had yet to catch up with them but Legolas did not dare believe they were anything but close behind.

"Back you foul things!" Legolas hissed and slammed his boot into the jaw of one of their attackers, feeling bone shattered beneath his heel. Another swung at him but the elf turned in time to catch the blade and returned it with as much intensity. Melia was shooting her steel arrows at the enemy but he could tell by that taut expression in her eyes that she would soon run out.

Suddenly a glint of moonlight caught something speeding towards the Prince. Melia saw it an instant before it struck. She pulled Legolas out of his path without thinking and they both fell off the horse just as the creature broke into a run, dragging a few goblins with it in its desperate attempt to escape. The arrow that would have killed her prince was now embedded in the steed’s neck, blood staining the gray of its pelt. The goblins triumphant in having succeeded in unseating the elvenprince and his companion were now closing in for the kill. Legolas knew that if they were allowed to be trap, neither he nor Melia would live to see the morning.

The goblins had closed their route to the river and so there was only one thing left to do before they were surrounded completely. Legolas grabbed Melia’s hand and started running for the trees. In the wood, there was a chance of escape if he could lose them amongst the trees. Though he was more adept at losing himself within the forest then Melia, her skills as Ranger were nothing to underestimate. A goblin attempted to intercept them as he and Melia ran for the woods and Legolas made quick work of it by swinging his blade at the creature and tearing open its insides. Melia was also accosted but she reacted just as swiftly, slamming her crossbow, now exhausted of its supply of bolts across the face of another advancing enemy.

The action gave them the precious seconds of a cleared path and both took advantage of it, running faster than either had ever raced in their lives. They could hear the goblins falling into pursuit behind them as they tore through the woods, running through the foliage. While Legolas left no tracks, Melia certainly did and those tracks were unfortunately seen by the enemy. Had they the time, Melia would have been able to disguise her path but their main goal was too put as much distance between themselves and the goblins as possible. Dawn was still hours away and there would be no safety until the sunlight had returned.

Trampling through the forest, the terrain towards the mountain was hard and it was with dismay that Legolas saw that the canopy of trees would soon come to an end. The goblins would move with greater speed over the cleared terrain and they would have no place to hide. He could feel their presence behind them, relentless in their pursuit. It was with surprise that he realized that they were ravenous from hunger and were on the verge of turning upon themselves. He could feel the deep growling craving for food that was driving them so desperately after the first morsel of food they had seen in too long.

If they did not find a place to hide, they would die in the belly of the enemy.

They were close behind and as he came to a pause, he saw that Melia knew it too. Her fear was thick but she was too proud to show it. This journey on foot would not do, Legolas realized and searched the trees. They were as strong as they were old. Some of the branches were spread out like giant palms upturned towards the sky, their leaves a blanket of green. Legolas saw the branches that were thick and old and knew that if there was any escape tonight it would be have to be in trees above them. In the bosom of the forest, they might be able to double back the way they came, while the goblins continued their pursuit.

"Follow me," he instructed. "Put your foot where mine has been and nowhere else. Fail in this and we will both die tonight."

Melia nodded quickly not doubting his claim for an instant. Legolas started climbing a nearby tree, scaling its branches with such speed that he almost look like he was flying. He was well off the ground when his hands reached for her and he pulled her up into the cover of the leaves above her head. Poised on the thick branch, they moved as silently as was possible, the slight rustle of leaves making too much sound as they retreated into the forest once more. Below them, they could hear the goblins spreading out and when those noises drew too near, they froze in silence, praying that they were not betrayed by circumstance or by any failing of their own.

Legolas seemed made for the trees as he was crouched in the shadows, blending in as if he were one with its life in a way she could never understand. She watched him, still as the night air, seeming nothing at all like the man she loved, skin luminescent the way only elves’ could be, eyes burning in the dark, watching everything. She realized at that moment that she would always be this way. It gnawed at her as she felt the callused palms of her hands, scars and dullness of her skin that it would never endure as his would. The calluses would become more acute, joined with wrinkles and lines, markers that time was catching up to her. He said she was beautiful but she knew it would only be true today.

Tomorrow, she would be different.

"I think it is safe," Legolas whispered finally, breaking the silence after what seemed like hours. "We should remain where we are until sunrise."

Melia could not hear them but that meant nothing. Goblins knew the art of stealth as well as they. She looked up into the sky and saw that the indigo night was giving way to sunlight but dawn would not come for an hour yet.

"Then what?" She asked softly. "Do we continue?"

"We must," Legolas nodded. "We must put some distance between ourselves and the goblins for they will be roaming these woods as soon as the night falls again. It would take too much time retreating. We are safer continuing ahead."

"I have never known them to be so persistent," Melia shook her head in confusion. "Usually, they do not persist in such a relentless hunt for no reason."

"They are hungry," Legolas explained. "Did you not notice how there are no large game here? All the life we normally expect to find in a wood this size is absent. I have seen nothing larger than a rabbit and a diet of that alone cannot be enough for goblins who are used to larger fare for their bellies."

"The same was said of the Blue Mountains," Melia pointed out, remembering how barren it had been in the foothills before they reached the mountain range. However, that aberration was due to an infestation of worms that had thrived in its crevices. "But that was caused by the worms that Eowyn, Arwen and I battled."

"There are no worms in Ered Mithrin," Legolas said simply. "However, there are known to be cold drakes."

"Cold drakes?" She almost hissed loudly before realizing that they needed to remain silent for their own safety and looked at Legolas again, this time with more restraint. "There is a name I had no wish to hear again."

Melia remembered all too well what it was like to fight one of these beasts. She had no wish to do it again.

"The mountain was inhabited by the dwarves of Durin’s line until the cold drakes forced them out. Since that day, the drakes have remained in Ered Mithrin though I think many of them have returned to the deeper pits of the earth for none have been seen in some time."

"I thought the same," Melia remarked sarcastically, "then I found myself fighting one."

"Do not fear," Legolas said quietly, "there are far more dangerous things in that mountain than mere drakes."

"Mere drakes?" Melia’s brow arched. "I admire your ability to make so measured a judgement."

Legolas was content to offer a little smile in answer before his gaze dropped to the ground once more. He could not see the goblins but he could feel their presence near. Very soon they would discover that there were no more tracks to follow and ascertain that their prey might have taken another route into the forest, which meant they would be coming back. As much as the trees had provided them shelter in their hour of desperate need, Legolas did not believe that it would be enough. Sunlight was not long away and the goblins would be returning this way in order to return to their hiding places under the earth.

"We need to reach the edge of the forest," Legolas informed her quietly.

"Yes," Melia nodded in understanding. "If the dawn breaks, they cannot pursue us into the open."

"I should like to go eastward but that way takes us too far out of path and we already have a long way to go now that the horses are gone." He declared before his voice fell silent and he went very still. His superior senses heard their coming first. Against the serenity of the forest, their harsh language and their brackish natures were easy to locate. He could hear them trampling over everything that lived, hacking away living plants out of sheer spite as they sought out their prey. They were coming back this way and though Legolas was not as fluent in their speech as he liked to be or was comfortable with, he understood their far sounding words clear enough.

The goblins knew they were in the trees.

"We need to move," Legolas replied quickly, working his way across the long branches with Melia following closely. "They have guessed where we are."

"That was inevitable I suppose," Melia said tautly as she followed him and watched his movements closely, remembering what he had said about repeating his every step. Elves knew more about stealth than Melia would ever learn even if she did live as long as three millennia.

"Watch out!" Legolas turned around sharply as his senses warned him of danger.

The arrow came out of nowhere and it struck her deep in the thigh. Melia let out a cry of pain as the metal splinter tore through her leg, upsetting her balance on the precarious walk she was perched upon. Legolas watched in horror as she slipped off the branch and he rushed to catch her but failed to reach her in time. She landed heavily in the center of the goblin raiding party; the arrow still embedded in her thigh. There were at least ten of them, two of them being archers and most likely the ones responsible for her injury. Legolas immediate unslung his bow from around his shoulder and removed two arrows. Positioning them carefully, he let them fly and felt some measure of satisfaction, when both struck their mark as he leapt out of his hiding place to help the woman he loved.

The pain in her leg was beyond belief but adrenaline and fear had shunted the pain aside as she saw the goblins coming towards her. Rising to her feet far quicker than she thought herself able in light of her injuries, she saw a goblin raising a weapon to her and could do little more than block the blow with her crossbow. The construct of her weapon was made of steel and the heaviest wood known to Middle earth and beyond it. It was her father’s and it was old when he had received it. They said that it had been fashioned by elves, but she never really paid it much heed. All she needed to know was whether or not it could stop a blade.

It did.

With far more determination to survive than it had determined to kill her, Melia shoved the goblin back and swung the weapon like a club, smashing the crossbow’s full span across its body and sending the goblin reeling backwards in pain. She wished more than anything she had a bolt to arm the thing with but all had been exhausted when they were battling the goblins at the riverbank. Unfortunately, the crossbow was not meant to be used in such a fashion and her swing though effective at first had left her wide open for attack. The other goblin barreled though her and tackled her to the ground. With the pain in her leg, she was able to do little to stop him.

She winced when he struck her across the jaw hard but it was not quite enough to disorient her from retaliating. She struggled hard to dislodge him from the straddling position he had taken over her body and damn near succeeded when the vile thing grabbed the arrow impaled in her leg and shoved it deeper into its wound. The pain it produced was beyond belief and Melia found herself screaming despite herself.

Legolas heard her scream and swung the dagger in one hand through the neck of the goblin closest to him. The other that was sneaking behind him during the confusion soon found the Prince of Mirkwood glaring murderously at him before a foot struck him in the chest and sent him flying backwards. Legolas threw the other blade in his hand and impaled the creature upon the tree it landed. Black blood spurted forth from the wound, staining the sword’s blade. Legolas retrieved his weapon and began to kill anything that stood between him and Melia. They were goblins and they knew nothing of skill in battle, their only strategy was to overwhelm by sheer force of numbers.

Fortunately, he was not held back by such deficiencies. He had fought at Helm’s Deep where Sauron had hurtled at the people of Rohan everything he had to take the territory. Legolas had stood with Aragorn, Gimli and all the other warriors who sought to prevent that and in doing so fought numbers even worse than this. A group of goblins were not that much of a problem when his blood was sufficiently fired up as it was at this moment. With dagger and sword, he fought without pause. Swinging his blade with such fury that it more or less killed on the first blow. He used the sword to wound and the dagger to kill. With the two weapons in his hands, it was not long before the battleground was covered with goblin corpses.

There would be more coming, he did not delude himself on this as he took the head from one of the beast. The creature’s head spun in mid air before hitting the ground hard with a loud squelch that would have made him shudder a little if he had cared enough to notice. He did not. Melia was struggling to keep the goblin poised on top of her from bringing down his blade against her throat. Her face was contorted in pain as the vile beast kept his firm grip upon the arrow in her leg and twisted it viciously.

"LEGOLAS!" She screamed desperately when she saw him at last, relief flooding into her terrified face.

The goblin turned around, just in time to see Legolas thrusting his sword deep into its body. It looked ahead at Melia, its own face now snarling with vicious pain as the point of the blade remained between them both, having passed through his body. Before it died, he felt the Prince of Mirkwood’s hand on his shoulder, tossing him away from the woman. He was the last to die and for the moment at least, there was a pause to allow them to catch their breath.

Legolas dropped to his knees next to Melia who was on her back still, groaning in pain, her hand clutching her leg. He examined the wound briefly and was gratified to see that it had penetrated flesh but had not severed anything that would kill her. His relief at seeing this to be her only injury filled him with untold joy even if he could savor it for only a moment because they would need to be on the move again.

"I am here," he said slipping his hand underneath her to help her up and succeeded in being on the receiving end of a heartfelt embrace.

"I almost was not," she said gratefully, tears in her eyes from pain and the relief at her survival. "Thank you."

"I promised you that I would let nothing harm you," he said softly as their lips met in a soft kiss.

"Yes," she murmured, taking comfort from his mouth against hers. "I should learn to believe you by now."

"Can you walk?" He asked softly, hating to disengage from her arms but the urgency of the situation demanded it.

"I think so," she nodded as he helped her to her feet. "Best to leave the arrow where it is," she suggested, looking at the sliver of wood protruding from her thigh. "I can manage until we reach the edge of the forest and step into the sunlight."

"Are you certain?" Legolas asked not at all happy about that. Goblin arrows were sometimes known to be poisonous and Legolas could see that the one lodged in Melia’s thigh was causing her a great deal of pain, though she would not admit it. Unfortunately, if he attempted to remove the arrow now, he would have to treat the open wound left behind immediately. They could not afford that precious time, not when there was still enough dark to ensure that they would be troubled by more goblins if they stayed where they were. Even now, he could hear their distant voices and the soft thrum of their war drums echoing through the forest, a call for more of their kind to come aid in the hunt.

"Yes," she answered slipping her arm around his shoulder. "I cannot hear them as well as you but I know that they are coming."

Legolas shifted his eyes away from hers for a moment, unable to admit to her that the goblins were closer than what she thought because she was already trying so hard not to be a burden upon him. If she knew how truly close they were, Legolas had no doubt that she would attempt to do something selfless and undoubtedly foolish to save his life.

"We must move out of the shadows," Legolas said quickly avoiding the question all together and burying a little truth in his non-disclosure. "They are calling for reinforcements."

"I shall keep up as best as I can," Melia grunted, trying to force away the pain as she hobbled forward with his help. She did not wish their escape hindered by her injury and grit her teeth to endure the pain that surged through her each time she made a tentative step forward with that cursed arrow trapped in her leg. If she removed it now, she would bleed profusely unless he bound the wound immediately and they did not have time for that. For now, the arrow would make her wound weep a little if she could tolerate its invasion.

"I will carry you," he offered.

"No," Melia retorted hotly. "You need to keep your hands free in case they come upon us far sooner than we think." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you for the thought."

"We will survive this," Legolas said staring into her eyes as they left the dead bodies behind them. "I promise you."

"I expect to be killed by something far fouler than goblins," Melia replied bravely as they moved through the trees.

Climbing into their branches was beyond her now. There was no way she could maintain the poise or agility required to stay aloft and so they were forced to take this course. Legolas tried not to think about what would happen if he could not get her out of these woods before the beating of those distant drums brought the swarm he anticipated it would. The worst they would do is kill him. The worst they would do to her was keep her alive.

"I am glad you have some preference in the matter," he replied.

They kept a brisk pace despite her injury and Legolas tried to ignore the pain he saw in her eyes each time she took a step. Unfortunately his efforts to convince her to allow him to carry her were met with strong refusal and in truth, there was a good deal of sense to her desire that he be free to fight if the enemy stumbled upon them far sooner than either he or Melia anticipated. If they could clear the wood, then perhaps they might survive this night but as they neared the edge of it, Legolas grew even more wary of their chances of reaching it alive. It was always darkest before dawn, someone had once said and at the moment, the Prince of Mirkwood thought it was very dark indeed.

He could feel them closing in even if he did not see them. Their presence was close and they were desperate to reach their prey because if he and Melia reached the sunlight then they would be robbed of the best feeding they had caught sight of in weeks. Legolas felt his blood chill and he drew his sword even as he supported Melia’s frame around his shoulder. She saw him unsheathing his weapon and her eyes filled with the same sorrow that it might end here, tonight and all the things they could have been together in the lifetime that they would be stolen from them.

"Prince," she said softly, "leave me."

"No," Legolas retorted, barely hearing her and expecting something like this to come from her lips in light of the growing hopelessness of their situation.

"You must or you will die here with me," she implored.

"Melia," he paused long enough to look her in the eyes and say firmly. "Do not tax my patience on this matter. I will not leave you. Clear that thought out of your mind this instant, it only wastes your energy."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" She hissed in exasperation. "I do not wish you to die."

"And you think that my leaving you here to face those goblins will not kill me? Were I actually cowardly enough to do that, I would take my own life in shame." He stared at her.

"It is not cowardly to save oneself," Melia retorted. "Why must you be so difficult?"

"Because I love you and like all your race, your efforts to be noble are usually half thought and usually made when high on too much emotion," Legolas declared sharply, not really paying attention to her because the tree line was just ahead and he could see the sunshine beyond it. Unfortunately, he could no longer hear the goblins.

"If it were not my life you were trying to save, I would be most furious about that statement Prince," she glared at him.

"You do not mean it," he remarked as his eyes searched the woods around him and found the shadows were too long for his liking. "You love me too much."

"Well," Melia frowned at him through narrowed eyes. "You have me at a disadvantage there though I might ask you to remind me why again."

"Because you like what it is I do to that sensitive place at the crook of your neck," he answered with a completely straight face.

She gave him a look and returned dryly. "It is good to know that we die in character."

Legolas did not answer because the shadows began to move as he expected and the brief interlude of levity withered away like ice in the sunlight. The goblins emerged, having waited for them to arrive, guessing that they would make for the sunlight as their only means of escape. Melia closed her eyes as she saw their numbers, too many to count and knew that there was no way either of them would survive the united assault of the forces rallied against them. The goblins sneered in triumph, their jagged and rotting teeth bared in expressions of exultant victory and menace as they closed in on the two. She released her hold on Legolas, putting her weight on her injured leg for it did not seem to matter any more. Taking his dagger as he held up his sword in an invitation for the goblins to try and take them if they dared, Melia held her ground next to her prince.

"I love you Prince," she whispered softly. "They will not take us easily."

Legolas met her eyes and felt his heart fill with love. "I had hoped for longer but what has been between us, is worth even this terrible end. I love you Melia."

And that was all that they were allowed as they faced the enemy once more, preparing to fight and die before they became a meal to any goblin.

The goblins moved in for the kill cautiously for an elf was nothing to be underestimated even if they surrounded him in the dozens.

Legolas raised his weapon, preparing to kill the first goblin that came upon them when suddenly, a bright and powerful ray of light flooded the clearing in which they were about to do battle. Its intensity was so strong that even the prince and his lady, accustomed to daylight were forced to flinch away. Its effect upon the goblins was far worse and the creatures screeched collectively in pain as the white light flooded their sensitive eyes. Legolas blinked once or twice as his eyes adjusted and saw that there was a floating orb producing the brilliance, as if a small sun had suddenly sprang up in mid air before them.

As stunned as he was by what he was seeing, the elf recognised salvation when it was upon him. Sheathing his sword, he wasted no time as he swept Melia into his arms and starting running for the forest edge, past the goblins that were trying desperately to shield their eyes from the overpowering illumination. Some had started to scatter in order to flee the burning ball of radiating energy, disappearing into the shadows only to find that it was no more and forced to flee deeper into the forest.

Legolas saw none of this retreat because he was surging through the forest like a stag running from a hunter. It was with a sense of irony that Legolas understood that the analogy was not so dissimilar considering what would have been their fate if the enemy had caught them. He let out a gasp of breath as they passed through thinning forest and burst into the terrain beyond the woods. They emerged into a field full of tall grass but decidedly lacking in hulking trees that would keep the sun from their skin. The heat of the morning was like a breath of air to those who lived because of its presence.

Legolas’ chest was pounding as he finally came to a pause and dropped to his knees, Melia still in his grasp. Only when he took a moment to catch his breath did he notice the wet streak across her cheeks, the tears that had come because his exertion had brought the pain in her leg to almost searing proportions and yet she had forced herself to remain silent. When he put her down, she lay flat on her back, her body shaking from the opportunity at last to rest.

"Take this thing out of me!" She demanded, glaring at the arrow.

"Aye," he nodded and cast a final gaze at the wood and knew that the goblins would not emerge into this deliciously sunny day. He dropped next to her and tore the fabric of her leggings surrounding the shaft of the arrow. Legolas felt it rip easily though the stench of blood saturated the dark material.

"What happened back there?" Melia asked as she looked away from what he was doing, trying to occupy her mind with thoughts other than the pain that would be soon inflicted upon her when he pulled the arrow out of her leg.

"I do not know," Legolas answered honestly. "If I did not know better, I would say that we were given a reprieve by a wizard."

"Then you would be right," a male voice said behind him and Legolas fairly spun on one knee to meet this new arrival with his sword.

The man before them was unlike any man they had ever seen. His skin was not that different from Melia’s though while hers was a rich bronzed shade, his was almost ebony and flawless. If not for the tufts of grey in his hair of short, tight curls, it would have been difficult to tell how old he was. He did not appear to be as old as Gandalf and there were markings under his eyes, shaped like teardrops against his skin. His eyes appeared kindly and Legolas sensed no danger from him. His robe was not unlike the garb of russet worn by Boromir with studs that seemed more fashionable on a warrior of Gondor. Although there was no doubt in his mind that this man was no warrior but rather a wizard of unknown allegiance and that made Legolas nervous and unwilling to lower his weapon.

"Speak your name Sir or I shall strike," Legolas said forcefully.

"My name is Dimulmaion and I would think that you would have no fear of me since I saved your life in that wood." The man replied rather patiently despite the circumstances.

"That was your work?" Legolas asked cautiously. He sensed no danger from the man but he was not about to assume that a wizard who was able to drive away goblins with balls of light would not be able to addle the senses of one elf.

"Yes," Dimulmaion said with a slight nod but his attention was focussed on Melia. "The young lady is hurt, I would ask you let me tend her."

"So you are a wizard and a healer?" Legolas retorted skeptically.

"Tell me," he looked at Legolas. "When did the Eldar become so cynical? There was a time when your kind had hearts as open as the sea."

"A great deal has changed in the world since then," Legolas replied. "Who are you? Are you Istari?" Considering that Melia had claimed an Istar had escaped to these mountains with her mother, it was not an unfair assumption to think that this might be the one they sought, though why he would help them was beyond Legolas’ ability to answer.

"No," Melia spoke up immediately. "This is not the man I saw at Dol Guldur. Legolas, he just saved our lives, be a little more civil."

"Your wife speaks wisely," Dimulmaion remarked as he lowered himself next to Melia.

"She is not my wife," Legolas remarked as he joined them, not liking this stranger to take such a familiar approach to Melia. "But we are  _together_." He replied emphasizing the last word so that  Dimulmaion would make no mistake.

"Oh forgive my error," the man said dryly as he examined Melia’s wound briefly before reaching into the pouch on his belt to produce some strangely aromatic herbs. "The way you were arguing in the wood before the goblins found you, I thought for certain you were husband and wife." 

"No," Melia replied with a little hiss as the herbs he put on her wound burned a little but brought a strange numbing of pain once it had subsided. "That is how we always speak to each other."

"Then it must be an  _interesting_  relationship," the man smiled.

"You have  _no_  idea," Legolas frowned, wishing Melia was not so familiar with this stranger. "You did not answer my question. Are you Istar?"

"There is an Istar reputed to live in those mountains," Dimulmaion answered the prince, aware that he could not aid the woman unless he gave up that answer. "I am not he. Now I need to help your lady. The poison from the arrow is spreading and it will kill her if I do not remove it."

Legolas could not ignore that fact when presented to him so starkly. He had only to look at Melia to know that there was truth in the man’s words. Even as he questioned the man about his origins, Legolas could see the fine sheen of moisture that had appeared on her skin and her pallor had lost its richness, fading into a growing shade of gray that alarmed him once he paid closer attention. She was ill and growing worse so by the minute. She had hidden it from him as long as she could because his Melia was brave and would not admit defeat in anything, even when struck by an arrow. He loved her stubbornness although it caused him no end of ire.

Kneeling next to Melia, he watched Dimulmaion’s skilful hands prepare Melia’s leg for the extraction of the arrow. Even Legolas knew enough about such injuries to be certain that no matter how much the wizard attempted to dull the pain; she would feel it when they removed the arrow. Melia knew it as well for she clutched his hand tight and braced herself for what their new companion would be forced to do. Legolas could see in her face that she was having difficulty coping with the pain as she had. Her body was gripped with light trembling which he knew to be the onset of fever. Her skin against his did not feel warm but cold and damp.

"I have to remove the arrow," Dimulmaion spoke, his gaze meeting Legolas’ more than Melia.

Legolas tightened his hold on her and nodded in understanding, "Melia," Legolas spoke staring into her face, "this will hurt."

"I know," she said softly looking back at him, swallowing thickly as she attempted to be brave. She held his hand tighter, trying to draw the strength he was offering her so readily. "Do what you must. Remove this accursed thing from my body," she said finally.

Legolas shifted his eyes back to Dimulmaion and gave him permission to continue. The wizard said little resting his hands on the shaft of the arrow, securing his hold. The world seemed to drain into that one moment, when Legolas waited for the arrow to be freed from Melia’s body. He held his breath, almost in anticipation, trying to brace himself the same way she was preparing to tolerate the agonising pain that came with such removals. He had been on the battlefield and seen the most hardened warrior’s succumb to the cutting pain of such extractions. Legolas himself had endured an arrowhead once or twice in three millennia of existence. He did not envy what she was about to endure nor could he stand hearing her agony when Dimulmaion finally acted.

Suddenly, without further ado, the wizard tore the arrow out of Melia’s leg.

The scream that ripped through the air came easily from one who was so accustomed to hiding every weakness. It almost cleaved Legolas’ heart in two hearing that cry of pain and her fingers dug into his hand with such force, it nearly drew blood. Tears ran down her cheeks as she bit down hard, almost passing out from the intensity of the pain. Melia nevertheless slumped weakly against Legolas, exhausted from the ordeal. She was panting hard, trying to wrestle with the stinging pain and attempting to spare herself the indignity of fainting but failed when she lapsed against his body and did not move.

"Melia!" Legolas cried out in fear as he held her against him.

"She will be fine," Dimulmaion said soothingly, showing sympathy for the elf’s worry for the fate of his lover. "It is best that she sleeps for awhile. Come," he stood up regarding briefly, the bloody arrow in his hand with disgust, before tossing it away. "I have a place where you both can take a moment to rest and gather your strength," he responded before proceeding to treat the wound with some herbs from the pouch hanging from the belt around his waist. Once, he had completed that immediate treatment to draw out the poison in the blade, he looked at Legolas again indicating the elf follow him.

Legolas swept Melia’s unconscious form into his arms and stared after the wizard as he drew away from them.

"I do not sense danger in him Mia," he whispered softly to her though she was quite oblivious to anything he was saying. "But he is not what he appears and that worries me. Unfortunately, we have little choice but to trust him for now."

If she were awake, Legolas was certain Melia would agree.

* * *

 

With the sun on their backs, the wizard led Legolas through the tall grass, browned by the sun. Despite the sunlight overhead, the landscape still appeared gray and dour, blending perfectly with Ered Mithrin in the distance. As Legolas followed him across the terrain, the elf took time to study his new acquaintance and wondered if Dimulmaion was the Istar that had brought about the destruction of Melia’s mother and the rest of the River Women. Melia said that he was not the man she had seen in her visions and yet Legolas knew for a fact that Gandalf was in possession of great power. An Istar who managed to fight off a balrog would have little difficulty in conjuring a minor glamour to hide his identity. If so, why was he helping them now? If this was the Istar who was once allied to the Nazgul then what purpose did he have in prolonging their existence?

Perhaps the Istar had as little idea as Legolas, what would happen when Melia finally found the Istar she had seen in her dreams. Legolas wondered what would happen when they finally came face to face with the one who had possibly killed Melia’s mother? Would she kill him in turn or demand of him the answer to the question of what had done to the River Women. Gandalf had died as a mortal but he had been powerful when he lived and more so after his resurrection. Did he and Melia have a chance of combating such strength if it was pitted against them? If the Fellowship were here, Legolas would not be so defeatist about their chances but the Fellowship was not. He and Melia were alone at the edge of the world.

They walked for a good hour with Melia still in Legolas’ arms. His limbs grew weary but she was a weight he did not mind carrying. The fainting spell had taken her into slumber and Legolas saw no reason to wake her since in her unconscious state, she would be spared the pain of her injury. He shifted his gaze from the road ahead to glance at her briefly. She slept peacefully, with her head nestled against his shoulder and he thought how childlike she looked when she was quiet like this. In her face was the nakd truth of the person she was, with none of the complications that made her so guarded or reserved. Legolas came to the conclusion that if she was ever his in the way he wanted he would love spending his mornings looking to her face as she slept.

"I never thought I would see an elf look upon a mortal that way," Dimulmaion remarked with a little smile.

Legolas looked up; his face feeling hot with embarrassment for he had not noticed the man had stopped walking and was observing him so closely. Dimulmaionlooked at him with curiosity, not derision but Legolas felt nonetheless self-conscious about being caught indulging in so personal a moment. He was a Prince of Mirkwood, taught all his life to be king, to be a paragon of virtue that would be a shinning example for those around him. Thranduil had told him time and time again that a king did not show his thoughts to others and though Legolas knew that he was more relaxed with the friends in the Fellowship, he had lived his long life always being guarded about his thoughts.

"She is the woman I love," he muttered in response. "It matters not that she is human."

"Then you will live a good life together," Dimulmaion replied with a little smile. "For however long she lives."

"I am aware of that," Legolas responded, wondering if  _everyone_  had an opinion on how impossible their relationship would be. "I have been told that a number of times already."

"And you chose not to heed their advice?" Dimulmaion remarked, a brow arching at that.

"How can I?" Legolas retorted with some measure of irritation. "I love her and she loves me. I do not even know if she will remain with me once we are done with our quest."

"Your quest," Dimulmaion stared at him "You are here on a quest?"

Legolas bristled because he had revealed more than he should have. "That is our affair."

"Of course," Dimulmaion nodded and continued walking through the large field of grass. It was clear that he was headed for a hill of rocks not far away from where they lingered. "It used to be so quiet here."

"How long have you dwelt in these lands?" Legolas asked, glad that they had moved the subject away from Melia.

"I have only recently returned," the wizard replied. "I have been wandering for many years in the Far East and thought I might return to the lands I knew in my youth but they are gone. Too many friends have left this world," he sighed with a little sadness in his voice that drew Legolas’ unwilling sympathy.

"I know all too well what you mean," Legolas answered, referring of course to the departure of elves from these shores. Since the end of the War, the call of the sea had become too loud for many of his kind to endure and so they set sail for the Straight Road that would take them to Valinor. Legolas himself had heard the siren song but he remained tethered to Middle earth because like so many of the elves that had opted to delay that final journey, he had reasons to remain. His imperative to stay initially had been because Aragorn was still his best friend as was Gimili and so many in his life would be sorely missed if he left them too soon. Now there was also Melia and her presence in his life had ensured that he would remain in Middle earth at least until the end of her existence, painful as that might be for him to think about.

"Yes," Dimulmaion answered, not looking at him. "Many of your people are leaving these shores. Soon the elves will be a memory."

"Not all of us are leaving," Legolas found himself saying defensively. "Some of us are remaining behind."

"But you will go too," the wizard replied and though Legolas could not see his face, he knew that he was smiling. "In the end the call of the sea is too much for your kind."

"And what of your kind?" Legolas asked, certain that this man was not a man at all. "Who are your people?"

"Oh they are gone now," Dimulmaion’s voice became sad again, engendering a feeling of guilt within the Prince because he had provoked it into being. "They have either lost their way or gone from this world forever."

"I am sorry," Legolas offered. "I did not mean to stir such sadness."

"It has been there for some time," Dimulmaion said dismissively. "You have not told me your name or hers."

"I did not think I needed to," Legolas retorted, realizing that he had not introduced himself or Melia to the man and was surprised by his lack of manners. "You seemed to know so much about us."

"I do," Dimulmaion glanced over his shoulder. "But the introduction is always nice nonetheless."

"Then it is the least I can offer you," Legolas replied. "I am Legolas."

"Legolas," the man mused softly. "Of Mirkwood?"

"Yes," Legolas frowned, supposing that it was not so unheard of that he had achieved some measure of fame. The Fellowship’s adventures had become something of legend now, though Legolas hated the fact that he was looked upon as some sort of great hero. The purpose that had driven the Fellowship to fight Sauron had been the desire to see all that they loved remain standing, not for fame or glory.

"And she?" Dimulmaion inquired further.

Legolas looked down at Melia a moment before answering. "Her name is Melia, daughter of Hezare of the Tribe of Bors."

"Bors?" Dimulmaion exclaimed. "She is a long way from home. An Easterling is she not?"

"Yes," Legolas nodded. "I believe she hails from the Sunlands."

"I had chance to travel there once," Dimulmaion remarked. "Dry as a bone that country. Here we have mere patches of desert while there it is a way of life. They are a hardy people, though twisted by war and Sauron’s brutality."

"She spoke something of it," the elf replied.

"What brings an Easterling so far from home?" Dimulmaion asked. "Their women are not prone to leave home. Actually, their women are not allowed to leave their dwellings for that matter."

"She searches for her mother," Legolas answered, offering only a scant bit of information for he did not entirely trust Dimulmaion yet.

The wizard did not say much but Legolas saw his shoulder sag slightly and wondered why that answer made him react so.

"I hope she finds her," Dimulmaion said with deep sincerity. "But such searches often end with the seeker regretting it. I hope that is not the way with her."

Legolas did not answer but he feared the same thing and deep inside, he was certain Melia knew it too. 


	8. Revelation

When Melia awoke, she did so with some measure of alarm.

As a Ranger, she was accustomed to knowing where she was at all times. To open her eyes and find herself in a place she neither knew nor recognised immediately sent waves of fear through her heart. Her first impulse upon regaining consciousness was to seek out her weapon for only when it was in her hand was she capable of facing the dangers before her. When she clutched the space beside her and found that it was gone, it drove into her a greater sense of panic. Her first impulse was to jump to her feet but the pain that coursed through her at that attempt, forced a cry from her lips and had a sobering effect on her state of mind.

"Let that be a lesson to you to not do that again," a voice spoke to her through the amber glow of flame around her.

Melia faced the one who had addressed her even as she was hissing in pain with her hand clutching, not a weapon as she had wished, but rather the bandage around her wounded thigh. Dimulmaion was staring at her thoughtfully from across the cavern Melia had now noticed they were in. She did not answer him for a few seconds as her eyes moved over the ceiling of their shelter because she was more interested in learning all she could about it. Judging by its size, it was not a very large cave for from where she was lying, she could see its mouth. Beyond it, the stars twinkled in the night sky and Melia was suddenly filled with the panic of not knowing just how long she had been unconscious.

"How long have I been asleep?" She muttered, searching his reflective expression for any inkling before he spoke.

"Almost a day," the older man replied. "The pain was too much for you after I removed the arrow. You fainted."

Melia balked at the suggestion. Fainting was the work of genteel females accustomed to soft living, not a Ranger of Angamar.

"I do not faint," she said stubbornly.

"Considering the agony that must have been caused by removing that arrow from your leg, there is no shame in it," he pointed out.

"I do not faint," she repeated herself, immovable on this point.

Dimulmaion let out a heavy sigh that indicated he was not going to argue continuously on this issue. "In that case, you selected an opportune moment to fall asleep."

Melia frowned and said nothing, deciding to choose the safer option of studying her immediate surroundings instead of fencing with him on her state of unconsciousness. The cave was small but was littered with enough belongings and evidence of past fires, beyond the one that burned in the center of its confines, giving good indication of its occupancy before tonight. It was upon realizing that she was alone with Dimulmaion that Melia discovered that their company was missing one of its number.

"Where is Legolas?" She demanded her concern for the prince overriding her fear of incurring more pain by movement as she tried to stand up in order to seek him out.

"Still yourself," Dimulmaion responded quickly but his tone was laced with sympathy for her feelings. "He is merely ensuring that my spell of protection is doing its work. For some reason, he is unable to take me at my word that we are safe from goblins."

"He is vexing that way," Melia remarked, easing into her sleeping place once more, glad to hear Legolas was well although she wished he were here.

According to Dimulmaion, she had been unconscious (not fainted) for almost a day and yet it felt as if she had been away from her love for much longer. While the desire to see him was intense, Melia could not help feeling a little embarrassed that she was longing for the Prince like a lovesick maiden.

"He has scarcely left your side," Dimulmaion revealed. "Not even to sleep. The only time he did leave is to ensure that my spell would protect us from the goblins because he will risk no more harm to you."

"It is pointless to convince him otherwise," Melia shrugged, intensely uncomfortable about discussing her feelings about Legolas with this stranger. Despite the fact that he had saved her life and seemed trustworthy, her private emotions were her own and she had no desire to discuss them. "He forgets that I am a Ranger of the North and am quite capable of fending for myself, though at this moment it may not appear that way."

"He loves you beyond measure," Dimulmaion reminded. "It is hard to be impartial when one’s heart is as lost as his."

Melia swallowed thickly and allowed herself to make one small confession to that remark. "His feelings are not unique though I think he does not fully appreciate what it is to love a mortal."

"He is three thousand years old," the wizard responded with an edge to his voice that could possibly be reproach. "I think he is perfectly aware of what he risks by giving you his heart. The question remains - do you know what it is to love an elf?"

Melia stared at him hard. "My hesitation is for his sake."

"Is it really?" He asked her softly.

"What do you mean?" Suspicion crept into her voice as she made that demand. Of course it was for his sake, what other could there be?

"Perhaps a little of it is for yourself," he replied as he continued to smoke his pipe. "After all, it cannot be easy to love someone who will never age, who will remain as beautiful as the first time you beheld him while you yourself, grow old and withered. There is no shame in admitting that you fear your feelings for him might deteriorate into envy, that the love you were willing to endure for his sake might twist into hatred and jealousy because he does not decay as you do."

Melia opened her mouth to protest but she could not. She could not because a small kernel of truth had surfaced in his words. Amongst all her reservations about Legolas, was the hint of that ugliness in the mix as well and though she might think herself a better person than to feel such things about an elf who made her heart soar each time she saw him, Melia could not deny its existence. It was one of so many things that made her fear a future together with the Prince of Mirkwood. She loved him deeply, there was no denying that but she did not know if she was strong enough to be his wife and yet equally, Melia did not know if she was strong enough to give him up either.

"You do not answer," Dimulmaion replied, understanding all too well her silence "It is none of my concern however."

Melia wanted to respond. Hearing her fears put so starkly made her realize how petty it was, how paltry the doubts seemed in the face of how she felt. For the first time, she felt the uneasiness drain from her because hearing a stranger’s unbiased opinion was liberating and having it presented to her so bluntly, made her understand that love was not meant to be easy, not between a human and elf or between a human and human. Whatever the combination, there would always be difficulties attached.

"For someone whose business none of this is, your arrows of wisdom fly accurately," Melia remarked with a hint of mischief.

"Thank you," Dimulmaion remarked as he stirred the meal that had been simmering on the fire and had filled the cave with a pleasant aroma. "It is difficult being so astute in one’s indifference."

His eyes met hers playfully and Melia could not help but smile. "You do it well."

"Now then," he stared at her as he filled the small bowl in his hand with some warm broth. "Tell me about your dreams?"

"My dreams?" Melia declared, cursing herself that she was unable to remain silent in her slumber. He had probably overheard her cries while she was tormented by the usual demons in her sleep. "Why?"

"They seemed to be plaguing you while you slept," he pointed out. "Your Prince did not tell me a great deal but I sensed they were connected to what brings you to Ered Mithrin."

"Who are you really?" She asked instead, certain that he was not merely some wizard who happened upon them so fortuitously.

"I will give you an answer only if you tell me what you saw at Dol Guldur and in your dreams," he returned instead.

"How do you know that we were at Dol Guldur?" Melia questioned suspiciously.

"Answer my question and I will tell you what I can," he insisted.

Melia drew a deep breath, not wishing to speak about her dreams to anyone. It had been difficult enough taking Legolas into her confidence without her having to reveal something so personal to a stranger she had met only hours before. However, owing the fact that this stranger had saved her life gave Melia some measure of latitude in allowing him to hear her innermost secrets. There was also a sense of belief within her that his presence here was not coincidental, that he might have some part to play in the search for her mother and the Istar who had Ninuie in his power.

"Ever since I was a child, I have dreamt about my mother," Melia revealed reluctantly and captured Dimulmaion’s undivided attention as she explained her unique heritage and the effects upon her nightly slumbers. Melia spared nothing, explaining her visions at Dol Guldur and the terrible images that had brought her to the edge of the world with Legolas at her side. Dimulmaion listened without comment. The only movement he made during her narrative was to present her with the bowl of broth he had poured earlier and indicating that she should nourish herself with its contents.

"Now it is your turn," Melia declared once she had finished speaking, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest by her revelations. "It is time for you to keep your promise."

"Then it appears that I have returned just in time," Legolas announced himself as he appeared at the mouth of the cave.

"As always elf, your timing is impeccable," Melia retorted playfully, unable to hide her happiness at seeing him.

In response, Legolas felt himself filled with relief to see Melia awake and appearing on the mend from the effects of the goblin’s poisoned arrow. He had spent the last hour patrolling the area, ensuring that the wizard’s enchantment, however it worked, did indeed keep away the goblins that had injured her earlier. Fortunately, whatever the magic was at work here, was more than capable of seeing to it that they would be left alone by the vile goblins living in the dark shadows of the wood they had left behind them.

"I am glad to see you are well," he replied warmly as he dropped to his knees beside her and met her lips with a gentle kiss while brushing her cheek gently with his fingertip. "How do you feel?"

"Like I have been set upon by a goblin’s arrow," she said wryly but then added because she could see the concern in his eyes, "but I am better then I was."

"You must be," he said sitting down next to her and facing Dimulmaion, "if you were able to make our wizard reveal some truth about himself."

"She is a shrewd woman," Dimulmaion chuckled. "She gave me no choice but to comply if I wished to hear her tale."

"And now that you have," Melia raised a brow in his direction. "Will you tell us who you are?’

"A promise is a promise," Dimulmaion sighed loudly, displaying some reluctance of his own at the telling of his origins. "I know something of this Istar that you speak. I know his reputation and it was the wish of one of his order that I find him, for the others not carried away by destruction or death have departed to the Undying Lands."

"You are speaking of Gandalf?" Legolas asked, wondering if Dimulmaion’s words were the truth. Why did Mithrandir not ask any of the Fellowship to make this journey instead of a wizard none of them had heard of? Prior to his departure, Legolas was aware that Mithrandir had passed some of the Istari’s teachings onto acolyte wizards who would carry on the work of guarding Middle earth against the forces of darkness when he and the elves had departed for the Undying lands. Was Dimulmaion one of these? Legolas wished he could be certain because Dimulmaion was extremely powerful for an acolyte.

"No," he shook his head. "There are Istari other than Mithrandir."

"I know of Radagast who dwells in the wood and Saruman who is dead. I believe that the Istar that is here is Pallando."

"Pallando?" Dimulmaion arched his brow. "What makes you say that, Prince?"

"Pallando visited my father’s court many years ago," Legolas explained. "I believe that when he left the Woodland Realm, he fell into the service of Sauron the Deceiver."

The wizard absorbed this for a time before he finally spoke in answer, "that is possible. However, my task is to escort the Istar that resides in Ered Mithrin to the Undying Lands, to save him if I can."

"I do not think it is possible," Melia stated for the first time. "He has done something unthinkable. He has twisted the River Women into some terrible parody of themselves. He has become a monster."

Dimulmaion’s voice became somber when he spoke again; "I am told that it was not his intention to be a monster. He was always something of a dreamer, believing that the way to fight Sauron was to eliminate the seed of evil entirely."

"That is impossible," Legolas declared. "As long as we have free will, we will always be swayed by good and evil. It is the choices that give our soul substance."

"I do not argue with you on that point," Dimulmaion replied. "But to him, it was a dream he was determined to fulfil. He believed that perfection came from an amalgamation of the best of both men and elf, to create a form of life that was beyond corruption."

"I cannot believe that one who would be party to the kidnap and despoilment of Lord Ulmo’s River Women could be anything but evil," Legolas retorted. "It takes a great deal of free will to twist a thing of beauty into a creature of absolute darkness."

"You may think so but sometimes the small compromises made with the best of intentions can quickly evolve into something immensely dark," Dimulmaionresponded, his voice shrinking into a sad whisper. "Perhaps he thought he was acting for the greater good at the time, blinding himself with arrogance and devotion to his cause from the true nature of the beast he had chosen to ally himself with. The Istar were given men’s forms when they arrived on Middle earth to keep their ambitions from outstripping their calling. No one ever considered that the failings of men could also taint their thoughts."

"I do not think that the race of men has failed or has failings," Legolas added his voice to Dimulmaion’s sad soliloquy. "Elves often consider themselves better because of our longevity, claiming that we are superior because we live longer and have more civilized sensibilities. Yet we forget that it is because of our immortality that we have this sense of balance. For us, we do not fear that we have only a finite time on this earth and so we are not constrained by it to fulfil our goals. Men have no time to seek perfection because their lives are so short."

"Did you know we would be coming?" Melia suddenly cut in abruptly because the wizard had explained a little bit about himself but not enough to satisfy her curiosity. From the appearances of this cave, it seemed as if he had been here for some time. Had he been awaiting their arrival? If so, how did he know of it?

"That is a question I would like answered as well," Legolas retorted. "I do not sense that you are a danger to us Dimulmaion but I feel that your presence here is not merely serendipity."

"Then you would be correct," he declared without hesitation. "I did not know that it would be you two that would arrive specifically but I had a sense of premonition that I should wait, that the last part of my quest would appear soon enough if I held my ground. Sometimes wizards are forced to rely upon our instincts as elves do and mine told me that I could not complete my journey because I was not to walk the path alone."

"Then you know where we must go," Melia looked at him.

"Yes, I do." Dimulmaion nodded. "However, I will not lead you there without having your word that you will not move to strike the Istar until I have a chance to plead my case."

Both Melia and Legolas stiffened simultaneously at the suggestion but it was the Prince who voiced his displeasure at the request first, "that is an exceedingly difficult promise to make. You said yourself, the Istar has been led to commit some heinous acts, are you certain that he is capable of being reasoned with?"

"I have to try," the wizard said earnestly.

Legolas did not answer for a moment and Melia wondered what was running through his mind. For herself, she thought it would be extremely dangerous to grant the wizard his request for the fortunes of battle, especially with a powerful Istar may not allow them the opportunity to hold back without costing them greatly. However, she knew her elf and she knew that in him, compassion ran rivers that were far longer and more powerful than the great Anduin itself. It was in his nature to see the good in everyone, no matter how much he had seen in his lifetime that might indicate that not every person could be saved. She loved him for this but it was uniquely an elven luxury to be so yielding in matters such as this.

"We will do as you ask," Legolas finally answered and gave Melia a sharp look, demanding her adherence to his wishes to this matter. "But I will risk none of our lives if the situation calls for us to fight. I would do the same if it was your life as well or Melia’s and my own. Your Istar is no longer the person he once was. Good intentions aside, he may seek to kill us all to conceal the magnitude of what he has done."

Dimulmaion nodded slowly, deciding that he could not expect any more than was offered. Despite his reluctance to believe that the Istar was beyond redemption, wisdom demanded that he faced the possibility. The prince had agreed to Dimulmaion’s request while his own demands were not unreasonable. Considering what awaited them when they finally reached Ered Mithrin, Legolas was taking a sensible approach in trying to honour his word but at the same time, risking none of their lives if the Istar was truly beyond all help.

Dimulmaion met Legolas’ eyes and answered softly; "if it comes to that then I will stand by you and fight."

* * *

Melia’s injury saw to it that the company could not leave their cavernous sanctuary for at least two days despite her protestations that she was well enough to travel as soon as she had regained consciousness. Neither Legolas nor Dimulmaion would give in to her claims that she was able to continue their journey to Ered Mithrindespite her most passionate entreaties to them that she was healed. Finally, the Ranger was forced to surrender to her situation and though she did not complain as much that they were not yet on their way, she could not deny the impatience that gnawed at her while she languished on a sick bed. Legolas remained at her side, ensuring that she wanted for nothing during this time, showing infinite patience not only with her stormy disposition but also at being held in place when they were so close to their goal. The wizard was more or less the same and seemed content to wait out her recovery even though this matter was as close to his heart as it was to hers.

As for the spell that protected them from the clutches of the goblins that seemed to roam these lands in such great numbers, Melia saw little of it even though its effects could not be denied. Legolas who was more than accustomed to seeing powerful magic performed in his lifetime was impressed by the effectiveness of it since they were troubled by nothing during the two days of their sojourn. When he questioned the wizard about the spell, Dimulmaion would only reveal that it was a glamour that made those who feared light see it in great quantities. Considering how much goblins detested the light, Legolas had to assume that the enchantment was working splendidly.

After two days of rest, the companions set out once again for the Grey Mountains whose presence was no longer on the horizon but surprisingly close. The journey there would not take more than a day on foot even with Melia’s injuries giving them reason to pause frequently. They set out at the break of dawn, hoping to take shelter in the foothills of the mountain by the time the sun had set that evening. While it was good to know that Dimulmaion’s enchantment would protect them from any goblins, Legolas was still filled with a deep sense of uneasiness. There was danger all around them but none more potent or powerful then the emanations he sensed from the mountain. Not since being in the presence of the One Ring with Sauron’s influence saturated into its gold, did Legolas feel such emptying blackness.

"Prince," Melia noted as she walked along side of him, seeing the subtle shift in his body as they neared the looming mountain. He was shuddering, Melia thought to herself wondering what could make someone so brave and unswerving in his determination to be shaken.

"Aye Mia," he glanced at her briefly before his gaze returned beneath his furrowed brow as he stared hard at the uneven line of the mountain before them.

Melia smiled, finding that she liked his little nickname for her and asked gently, "are you alright?"

"Yes, yes," he nodded still distracted. "Danger draws close to us. I feel it against my skin like a cold hand."

"Then let a warm one give you strength," she replied gently and took his hand in hers and clutched it tight.

Legolas felt her touch and whatever loomed in the distance was forgotten as he cast his eye upon her again, looking first at the hand that held his with such affection and then at the eyes of the one who loved him with as much intensity that he loved her.

"When we are done here," he said quietly, revealing to her the secret he had told only one other person since it was conceived in his mind. "Assuming that we survive, I will be returning to Mirkwood."

He had hoped to tell his father when he returned to Mirkwood but what passed between himself and Melia whilst there had made it impossible. However, it felt right that he should tell her since he hoped that she would be apart of what he intended to do with his future.

"I thought you did not wish to return home," Melia stared at him.

"I have unfinished business there which requires me to make my appearance in my father’s court. I owe it to Thranduil to say what must be said, face to face," Legolas replied after a moment. "There had not been time when we were last in each other’s company and I must finish what I went there to do."

Melia did not ask him to explain because she knew that the reason he had departed the Woodland Realm so prematurely was because of her.

"What must you tell him?" She asked, sensing that it was terribly important and something that Thranduil was not going to be happy to hear.

"That I am leaving his court permanently," Legolas answered and it felt as if he had been holding his breath forever when the words finally left him. It was strangely liberating to say it even though he had kept it close to his heart like some dark secret he dared not reveal to anyone for fears he could not even begin to imagine. However, hearing it spoken made Legolas realize the world had not ended with its revelation. In fact, the world seemed quite oblivious to it and to him.

"Where will you go?" She asked, not surprised by his statement but unable to imagine him as anything else but the Prince of Mirkwood.

"I spoke to Aragorn before we departed the White City," Legolas explained. "I told him that if Faramir did not wish the responsibility of South Ithilien then I would accept it. I understand that the woods there are vast and beautiful and I know many of my people are unhappy about leaving these shores just yet. Elladan and Elrohir tell me that the elves who linger still in Imladris now that Elrond has left are restless. They wish to settle somewhere because Imladris without its Lord is not the same for them. I think if I offered them a place in Ithilien they might come with me."

"South Ithilien is terribly close to Mordor," Melia pointed out. "Will that not be dangerous?"

"No more dangerous than it was growing up in Mirkwood," Legolas pointed out, remembering the terrible creatures that inhabited the woods for so many centuries before the destruction of Sauron. The worst of Middle earth had for a time taken refuge in its darkened glens and shaded clearings. Legolas knew this because he had spent the better part of three millennia hunting down these beasts and destroying them to hone his skill and to amuse himself. "The forests of South Ithilien, I am told, is very beautiful despite their proximity to Mordor. The orcs who have taken refuge there will not linger for long if my people were to establish a sizeable colony in its wood."

  
"So instead of the Prince of Mirkwood, you will be the Elven Lord of Ithilien," she said playfully. "I do not think I shall ever become accustomed to that."

  
"It might be easier if you were called the Lady of Ithilien." He returned swiftly, catching her off guard with the question.

  
Melia’s eyes flew open and she stared at him in shock, "was that a  _proposal_?"

"Yes," he nodded with a smile. "Marry me and be at my side. I know it will be hard toil but I swear it will be worth it. We can built something together, something that will outlast us. Melia I love you, I will never stop loving you and what time there is for you in the world, I want to spend it at your side."

"Prince," she swallowed thickly, uncertain of what to say in response to his entreaty. "I cannot give you an answer now. There is too much that is uncertain. Please, let us wait until this quest is done. I do love you but my heart is torn at this moment. I must know who I am before I can pledge my future to you, do you understand?"

He did not but Legolas was not about to force her to make a choice when she was unprepared for it. "I will not speak of this again until we are finished here," he said quietly, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice as he pulled his hand out of her reach and strode some paces ahead.

Melia watched his back retreat further ahead, cursing herself at being unable to make a decision. She knew she had hurt him especially after he had opened his heart to her and revealed his innermost dreams and desires for his future. She knew he did not make such revelations lightly and she rebuked herself for not being more sensitive to his feelings.

Dimulmaion who walked behind the two lovers remained silent and watched.

* * *

_They were coming._

_He had known they were coming for some time now but until their presence stirred the goblins in the wood like a nest of insects catching the scent of prey, he had not realized how close they truly were. In reality, his miscalculation was due to the fact that much of his power was fixated on one purpose and very little of it could be spared for other uses. His prescience was limited to his immediate surroundings though in the beginning, he was able to watch a far wider field then he was now allowed. They were coming and yet there was little he could do to stop them._

_  
The fear that they would discover what he had done was no longer a consideration. For so many years he had rebuked himself for what he had done at Dol Guldur, enough to know that nothing an outsider could say to him would equal the venom of his own self loathing. His life’s work had been twisted into an abomination of horror and his victims, a sob escaped his throat when he thought of the creatures they had been and what he had made them, his victims had avenged themselves by his enslavement to them. All that he had been was now trapped in a singular existence of ensuring that they never leave the mountain in which he had hidden them and it drained his strength like a leech drawing blood from a man._

_There was no escape for him or for his charges._

_That is why he did not fear his visitors for he had not the strength to even discern who they were, aware only that he was their purpose for coming. What was left of his powers was waning because his charges were becoming stronger. He had worked tirelessly to reverse what he had done but it was not possible and in his frustration and with their continued incubation, the balance of power between them had shifted from the jailer to his captors. Soon he would be drained of all strength and they would finally be allowed to see the world beyond this dark cave where he had secreted them for so many years._

_And when they did, it would not matter who found them or whether or not he was alive, because very soon, everything in Middle earth would perish._

* * *

The foothills of the Grey Mountains were very much like the rest of the landscape, appearing as if it had been abandoned. Other than the smaller wildlife that lived in the long bladed fields of grass leading to the mountains, there was no other trace of larger game. Dimulmaion claimed that not even the goblins dared traverse this terrain and remained at a respectful distance even though they saw no evidence as to what would frighten them so. However, all this changed when they reached the mountains and followed Dimulmaion through its cracks. After encountering nothing but barren land it was forgiven if Melia and Legolas lapsed into some measure of complacency. The terrible danger that Legolas had sense emanating from the mountain had become almost common place now but until they descended into the dark caverns beneath the great range of rock, neither had been able to appreciate how sinister a realm they were entering.

Dimulmaion led them through twisting passages in the dark, lighting their way by illuminating the tip of his Noldereth wood staff in much the same way Gandalf had once led the Fellowship through the mines of Moria. They moved deep into the mountain in steep descent, passing the ground level Legolas was sure until they were so far into the earth that Legolas felt his connection to the land above thin. The lack of sun made the elf uncomfortable but he hid it well, his senses seeking out danger even though at present the walls of their surroundings were saturated with it.

He had not spoken to Melia other than making a few obligatory remarks about their situation, her welfare during the journey and the path they were taking to the mountain. It required no clairvoyance for her to guess that he was still angry with her. She could not blame him for his anger and envied his certainty that their lives together would not result in tragedy. Melia wished she had his faith but her world was not as gracious as his. Her life had been full of hard realities which she had been forced to face alone. Melia doubted that Legolas had ever faced a moment alone during almost three thousand years of existence where he was truly alone. Yet even as she thought this, she knew that it was an excuse to justify her fear of giving her soul to him, even though she had already shared her heart and body with him.

Legolas seethed silently but he knew that it was not Melia’s fault that she could not give him the answer he desired so much. She had not his years of experience to draw from to tell her that whatever happened; their love would overcome any hardship. Her world was far different from his, as was her life. She was frightened; even he knew that much and though he was angry with her, he also understood her hesitation and that drew the bite from his ire somewhat.

His thoughts slipped away from Melia when they entered the mouth of a new cavern and the gleam of light from Dimulmaion’s staff illuminated it with such brilliance that for an instant, Legolas had to turn away from the sharpness of it. It took a few seconds to accustom himself to the overpowering brightness after being forced to travel in near pitch-black darkness. Once the glare had faded from his vision, Legolas found himself staring in wonder at the scene before him.

Durin’s city lay before them, an expression of majesty carved out of the rock and inlaid with marble. Not since the great dwarf city of Moria had Legolas seen such crafted splendor and like it was in Moria, found himself marveling at the skill of the race. It made him wish that Gimli was here because his old friend would have no doubt loved to have taken in the wonder of the construction before him. Great columns rose into the ceilings so high that it was something of a marvel when one considered the diminutive race that had carved them. Polished marble covered the floor and it seemed to stretch across the space of the mountain.

However, what had caused the astonishing glow was not at all from the impressive construct of the dwarf city but rather the reason they had chosen to settle in EredMithrin in the first place. The radiant light that had almost blinded the company of travelers entering the city was the result of what appeared to be millions of gemstones gathered in one place. A fortune beyond the dreams of avarice stood before them, unclaimed by any and forgotten with time. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, objects fashioned of gold and silver lay sprawled before them like a wanton mistress tempting them with her lusty gleam. The dwarves’ lusty appetite for such treasure was well known and it was one of the reasons why elves and dwarves seldom agreed on anything. Unfortunately, their desire for such treasure was greater in only one other race in Middle earth.

"What happened here?" Melia whispered, wonder had turned quickly into horror as they stepped further into the city and discovered among the beauty of the dwarf city and the gemstone littering its confines, something whose only power was to strike fear into all their hearts.

Legolas shook his head because he had been in this city once long ago. He had mediated some business for his father with Durin’s folk but those negotiations had come to naught because it was not long after that a nest of cold drakes had decided to lay claim to the city and horde the treasure for themselves. It was common knowledge that the dwarves residing in the city were killed by the creatures and the mountain was since known as a haven for cold drakes. When he and Melia had first journeyed here, Legolas had thought that perhaps it was the drakes that frightened the goblins into keeping clear of the mountain. However as he stared before him now, Legolas knew that it was not drakes that they feared.

It could not be when those drakes lying on the floor before himself; Melia and Dimulmaion were dead.

Their bones bleached through time and forces that Legolas could not begin to understand, lay intermingled with the jewels these drakes had attempted to horde for themselves through destruction and death. Complete skeletons were lying in scattered collections throughout the cavern as if some great force had swept through the enormous city and smote the drakes where they stood. What had killed them had done it fast and utterly, giving the creatures neither time to escape nor fight back. It was like moving through a menagerie of bones and seeing such mighty creatures, killed with such ease, shot fear through everyone who saw it.

"What power did this?" Legolas turned to Dimulmaion expecting the wizard to have some answers for him.

Dimulmaion did not speak but his eyes revealed much. Legolas saw that he was just as horrified by what they had found though not necessarily surprised. His expression shifted subtlety from horror to sorrow, possibly at the realization that it was the Istar he was trying to redeem that had caused this destruction. It was quite something to see death on such a scale, even if it was of creatures that had no value and were inherently evil. Still, seeing beasts as powerful as cold drakes reduced to piles of bones lying in the belly of a mountain would chill even the steeliest of hearts in spite of their inclination to fear such creatures.

"The Istar," the wizard whispered softly.

Legolas stared at him sharply. When Gandalf fought the Balrog in Moria, the battle had claimed his life. If it were not for the fact that the wizard was a Maiar spirit, he would have remained permanently in Mandos’ realm and not been resurrected some days later. Mithrandir’s power was great but even Legolas did not think him capable of single handedly vanquishing a nest full of cold drakes with such complete destruction that their bones now lay in piles like an uncovered graveyard. It was beyond Legolas’ comprehension that what he was seeing before him was the work of  _one_  man and if it was the work of one man, how in Eru’s name could they hope to stop him?

"Do the Istari have this kind of power?" Melia asked the question that Legolas could not.

"Not usually," Dimulmaion answered, shaking his head as if he were in a daze. "However, he has been dabbling in forces that should not be abused and who knows how it may have affected him."

  
"I for one am grateful that we did not have to face these creatures in the flesh," Melia remarked, her gaze sweeping across the skeletal remains of the cold drakes and shuddered a little. Even in death, they looked fearsome. She recalled the creature that she had battled at Arwen and Eowyn’s side at the Blue Mountains, thinking how difficult it was to kill one drake. She could not even begin to imagine their chances if they were called on to fight the number that made up this nest within the dwarf city. "Still, I do not know if I wish to face what has vanquished all of them either."

"Do you really think you can convince him to make the journey to the Undying Lands?" Legolas asked Dimulmaion who did not answer immediately. His mind seemed to be trapped in something of a fog and Legolas guessed that he was more shocked than he cared to admit by what he was seeing here.

"Dimulmaion, do you think he can be reasoned with?" Legolas repeated himself.

  
For the first time, the wizard’s certainty of this was absent from his eyes. Legolas saw a man who was stunned by what he had seen and was certain of nothing anymore. Perhaps in some corner of his mind, he clung to the hope that the Istar might come to his senses but the evidence of what lay before them had destroyed that belief and now he was as rudderless as the companions who relied upon him to be their guide.

"I do not know," Dimulmaion answered honestly.

Legolas let out a deep breath, trying to decide what he wished to do. It was no longer about simply finding Melia’s mother but rather keeping this menace from leaving these boundaries to wreak havoc upon the rest of Middle earth. A force that could destroy an entire cavern full of cold drakes could do much damage beyond this mountain. Middle earth was just beginning to recover from the ravages of the War of the Ring; it was too soon to find themselves pitted against the forces of an Istar gone mad.

"I would prefer that we were not alone in this endeavor," Legolas spoke after awhile. "Unfortunately this is not to be. This menace must be stopped here and now. It cannot be allowed to leave this mountain and plague the rest of Middle earth. Do you understand?" He stared at Dimulmaion hard.

"Yes," the wizard nodded in grim agreement. "I do."

Legolas turned to Melia, his expression softening as his gaze met hers once more. Forgotten was their earlier quarrel. It seemed trivial when their time together was dwindling fast since it was very likely that neither of them would survive the battle with the Istar. Yet, they still had to try. He looked into her eyes and saw that she understood what was being asked of her and in response, she raised her head high with courage and reminded him all over again why it was he loved her so.

"This was not my plan," he whispered softly as his hand reached for her cheek. "I wanted a lifetime with you."

She held it against her face, savoring the feel of his upturned palm against her skin. She shifted her head slightly and planted a small kiss on his hand. "I know."

"It must end here," Legolas explained. "You know that."

"Yes," she nodded. "Whatever we must do, I will be by your side however it comes to pass."

Legolas smiled at her lovingly and whispered, "I love you more than my life. You would have made a wonderful queen for my kingdom in Ithilien."

"You would have made me happy," she answered in turn.

They kissed each other gently, taking a moment to themselves because it was all that they had left to them. Neither expected to survive the battle with an Istar who could do this but dying was permissible if they could take him with them. When they parted, it was with complete acceptance of the dying to come if that was what was required. They were both at heart, idealists who believed in sacrificing themselves for the greater good, no matter how jaded each might sometimes profess to be.

"It is time. Wizard," Legolas said firmly as he and Melia left behind their tender moment and returned to the business at hand. "Take us to the Istar and let us finish this."

* * *

_The Istar chose not to run._

_It would have been so easy if flight would solve this but escape was an option that no longer existed for him. He saw their determination in his mind’s eye to end the threat of him because they believed him responsible for the destruction of the drake nest in this mountain. A part of him wished he had the power to wreak such havoc because it would have made things a great deal simpler if he had it at his disposal. So much could have been changed if he had the strength to devote to its cause. Unfortunately, what power he had when he arrived in Mithlond with the rest of his brothers was depleted considerably in his undertakings since departing from Dol Guldur. He had been siphoned off slowly and surely, feeling it draining from his body until nothing but a husk would remain behind one day. He would have died long before that._

_And despite his doom, it was still not enough._

_His creation was too powerful for him. All he had managed to do since bringing them here was to prevent their awakening into the world and that had taken almost every ounce of strength within him to maintain. He could not stop their ravenous hunger and they craved constantly. When they had first arrived, the feeding had been good. He had more than enough power at his disposal to ensure that he and his charges were able to slip past the drakes to find sanctuary in one of the forgotten rooms in Durin’s abandoned city. Mistakenly he had believed that the drakes would never allow intrusion into their domain so he would be safe from Sauron’s forces should they chose to pursue him. How terrible a mistake that had been._

_All he succeeded in doing was to ensure that his creations fed well._

_Slowly but surely they drained the cold drakes that had no inkling of what was happening to them and thus had no way to combat it until it was too late. They ambled along in their enclaves filled with treasure, hoarding as usual the gold and precious jewels they never used to buy luxuries or comfort, puzzled by their lack of energy but unable to reason out what was happening to them beyond that one realization. They continued this way until one day they simply did not even have the strength to walk or to leave their confines to nourish themselves. They died where they laid down in fatigue, aware that some malaise had overtaken them but not possessing sense enough to understand what that might be._

_With the passing of the drakes, the tendrils of hunger stretched forth beyond the mountain, seeking life in any shape or form. For a time, his creations were satiated by the goblins that dwelt on the foothills until the vile creatures understanding that something darker than themselves was hungry enough to see them as a meal. The goblins sensibly fled the area and retreated beyond the reach of the creatures that were slowly killing them. Since their departure, the feeding had been poor and with each day, the Istar sensed the intense hunger that drove his creations to struggle more violently than they had ever done before, to be born finally into the world._

_He had struggled for so many years to keep this from happening and now he was finally beaten._

_He had lingered and waited because he sensed one amongst them who had the strength to take his place, to restrain the evil that was struggling for freedom in a battle he could not longer continue to fight. If he could hold on for just a little longer until they arrived, then all would not be lost. There was a chance that the world would never discover what evil he had spawned in Dol Guldur that was now about to awaken unless he was replaced._

_He just needed to hold on for a little longer…_

* * *

 

Even before Dimulmaion told them that they were nearing their destination, Legolas Greenleaf felt it most acutely. They had crossed the graveyard of gems and cold drakes, leaving behind the splendor of the main hall and moving deeper into the city. From cavernous passages, they now traveled within corridors of white marble polished and smooth despite the years of neglect. It felt strangely disorientating and Legolas was reminded why he disliked enclosed spaces so much. Elves thrived in the sunlight and the open air. This confinement took them away from the light of the world in which the elves thrived the best. The threat that loomed all around him was so palpable now that Legolas was in danger of choking on it. He tried to dispel it from his senses because it could only cause harm but it refused to go away, clinging to him like stink to the skin.

"Prince?" Melia took his arm as she saw him falter a little. "What is it?"

"We are close," his gaze fixated on the doorway at the end of the corridor.

"He is right," Dimulmaion agreed staring at the doors whose wood had started to rot from age. "The Istar we seek is there. I can feel him."

"Can he feel you?" Melia asked as she unsheathed the dagger that Legolas had given her in place of her crossbow. She would have preferred her own weapon but it was useless without a fresh supply of bolts and Melia wanted to be capable of defending herself.

"Yes," the wizard nodded grimly; not about to hide this fact since it would become apparent the moment they crossed the threshold of the door. "He has been awaiting us."

"Well," Legolas sighed heavily as he unslung his bow from across his back and prepared himself to engage the enemy, "we should not disappoint him."

Fearlessly, the elf strode forward, leaving Melia and Dimulmaion behind briefly before they hastened their pace to match his. Melia found herself walking alongside her prince; ready to face whatever dangers awaited her. He offered her a little smile as they reached the door but no words were spoken for all they needed to say to each other had been done before this. Whatever lay behind that door, they would face together and as Legolas stared into Melia’s eyes all too briefly, he knew that whatever happened, she would be at his side. The wizard stared at them both, offering them his own silent pledge to fight with them, whatever took place once they crossed the doorway.

Legolas pushed the door open, allowing it to creak loudly as fragments of wood crumbled underneath his palm. Legolas had seen trees in Mirkwood that were diseased that had the same appearance and he wondered if the Istar was responsible for this too. Unfortunately, there was little time to ponder the question when the door swung open in a wide arch once Legolas had propelled it forward with enough strength to ensure that its own weight swept it the rest of the way.

The sight within was enough to freeze the blood in their veins.

For a few seconds, no one dared speak. They could only stared in astonished horror. It was thought that the skeletons of so many drakes were a horrifying enough sight to behold but they were wrong. This before them was far worse. It was a scene of evil not seen since Angband during the First Age of the Sun when Melkorhad created a host of terrible demons to fight his war against the Valar, if any of them were alive to remember it. The large room was filled with gelatinous globules of viscous material encasing the vague form of a woman within its cocoon-like prison. Through the slime inside it, they could see movement; fingers attempting to breach its wall, desperate clawing that made those who witness it sick with disgust.

In the center of this vile hatchery sat the man who was the creator of this terrible vision before them. His eye stared at them from hollow sockets and his cheeks were sunken so much that his face appeared almost skeletal. His hair was gray and long, pooling around him where he sat cross-legged. His robes of blue were darkened almost to black and his arms stretched out reverently towards the cocoons surrounding him were spindly with skin hanging from his bones. He gazed at them through watery blue eyes, fixating on their faces as if he needed a point of reference or else he would lose them completely. The Istar turned his uncertain gaze upon Dimulmaion and exclaimed with great relief.

"Pallando, you have come."


	9. Ninuie

For more seconds than Legolas could keep count, no one spoke following the Istar’s revelation.

Legolas was stunned into disbelief as his gaze looked away from the horrific scene before them to rest finally upon the face of the wizard he and Melia had known until now as Dimulmaion. Accusation filled his eyes as he waited for Dimulmaion - Pallando to explain although rage did not immediately grip him. This was largely because his mind was whirling through his recollection of Dimulmaion’s revelations about his identity. Begrudgingly, the elf was forced to admit that at no time did Dimulmaion ever deny being Istari even if his words were somewhat cryptic at times. Presently, the wizard himself did nothing to illuminate the situation, his own eyes fixed in open anguish on his emaciated brother before him.

Melia however, was not restrained by memories of what Dimulmaion had said previously and wasted no time in demanding openly another piece of clairification.

"If you are Pallando then who is that?" She asked pointing to the other.

Dimulmaion continued to stare at the other Istar, his eyes brimming with sorrow but he answered her question nonetheless because they deserved an answer for no matter how cleverly he had masked his identity, he did in truth deceive them.

"That," he said without moving his gaze from his Istari brother. "That is Alatar, a Maiar of Orome, as was I."

  
"I knew you would not turn your back upon me Pallando," the Istar Alatar spoke, his ghost like face attempting to smile but to those present, it looked instead like a grimace of pain. "I knew that you would find me someday."

"I never turned my back upon you Alatar," Dimulmaion replied as he approached the Istar slowly. "I left because you were more dedicated to your dreams of creating new life then you were to fighting the will of Sauron. It was not what we were sent here to do."

"I was trying to fight the will of Sauron!" The Istar cried out like a child attempting to justify the pulling of wings from an insect. "I wanted to create something that would be adverse to his will, something that could not be swayed by his evil or become corrupted by it."

"And you have created something," Dimulmaion replied, his gaze sweeping across the obscene hatchery about them. "Something that has no need of being corrupted by his evil."

The Istar eyes dropped to the ground, shame overcoming his face for he knew to what his friend referred. "I did not mean to do this," he whispered, lips quivering as he tried to explain himself. "They said they would help me. They said that they wanted to realize my dreams. I sought to use them as a means to an end but did not realize that I was the one being used."

As he spoke, his body seemed to tremble as if taking his attention from one act to accomplish another was weakening him even further. He seemed so frail that it was impossible to believe that this being was a Maiar spirit sent from Valinor to save Middle earth from Sauron’s darkness. How had that mission become so utterly twisted into this abomination of itself?

"You made a bargain with Nazgul!" Dimulmaion rebuked sharply. "How could you do that? How could you allow yourself to be party to this abomination?"

"It was my way of fighting Sauron!" Alatar burst out, his voice threatening to break into a sob at any moment at Pallando’s lack of understanding. "I thought if I used the river women, creatures of purity, without any stain of darkness to them that I could make my creation work."

"Your creation!" Melia burst out, having heard more than enough to be provoked into speaking. "My mother is one of those that you took! Is she here? In one of these, these  _things_?"

"Your mother?" Alatar stared at her in shock as if noticing her for the first time. "Which one is your mother?"

"Ninuie!" Melia almost shouted in fury, unable to believe that somewhere in this disgusting collection of cocoons was her mother or rather what was left of her.

If seeing his Istar brother had not brought him to tears, then hearing the name of one of his victims surely did. The Istar started to sob loudly at the mention of Ninuie’s name and for an instant Melia did not know how to react. She looked to Legolas for help but the elf was just as bewildered as she regarding his manner. For a moment, none of the company could say anything because they were robbed of all thought upon hearing the Istar vent his tears of grief they did not know or understand.

"You are the child," he managed to gasp through his tears. "You were the child she spoke of."

"She spoke of me?" Melia took a step towards him but Legolas caught her arm to ensure she did not approach the Istar too closely. Despite the man’s remorse, Legolas still did not trust that the Istar was a benign as he appeared.

"You and the man were all she  _ever_  spoke of," he said in a small voice. "In the beginning, she used to beg to be released so she could be returned to him. As the years followed, she stopped making the plea but I often heard her muttering their names. In the end, the names were all that were left of who she was."

There were tears in her eyes as Melia turned away from Alatar, not wishing him to see her weep. She felt Legolas’ hand on her shoulder, trying to offer her comfort but it seemed paltry in light of what she had just learnt. She cast her gaze upon the hatchery and saw that within their cocoons, the river women were oblivious to their presence. She saw hands flailing sluggishly through the resinous fluid they were trapped within like amber, trying to break free of the membrane that kept them out of the world. Nails clawed at the walls, some strained the material to breaking point but it was not enough to escape.

"Which one is she?" Melia demanded when she looked up at Alatar again.

"She will not know you," Alatar answered, still appearing as if a fog was resting over his mind.

"Tell her!" Legolas added his voice to the mix forcefully.

Alatar's eyes drifted across the floor of the chamber before coming to a rest upon a cocoon at the far end of the chamber. Melia’s breath caught when he paused and nodded in her direction. She swallowed thickly; barely aware that Legolas was holding her arm protectively when she walked towards it. It appeared no different than any of the other cocoons that were found within the chamber. She could see the faint outline of a body inside it, struggling to escape the prison of flesh. A wave of nausea welled up in the pit of Melia’s stomach seeing the figure’s hand clawing at its boundaries, trying to rip through the membrane that held her within.

Despite her revulsion, Melia placed her hand against the slick wall and recoiled inwardly at its warmth. She was reminded of an insect egg she had once seen and the connection almost made her gag in disgust. The cocoon’s membrane was warm against her skin and beneath its thin layer, she could feel the gelatinous fluidity of its contents. The figure inside became very still, most likely because it sensed her presence. Suddenly, a fist struck the flimsy walls of the membrane, trying to break through in order to catch Melia’s hand. The Ranger shrank back in fright and was then overcome with anguish when it dawned upon her that it was from her own mother that she recoiled with such disgust.

Legolas felt his heart break with sorrow for his love when Melia buried herself in his arms for comfort. He could feel her sobbing softly against his chest and burned with anger that after searching for so long, this was the reward for Melia’s efforts, to find not her mother, but a creature that bore little resemblance to the woman who gave her life. He would have killed Alatar for causing Melia that injury alone.

Dimulmaion or Pallando, whatever you call yourself," Legolas declared firmly, unable to endure seeing her pain as he held her close. "This cannot go on. These poor souls deserve peace. They cannot be allowed to exist in this way."

The wizard drew a deep breath, meeting Legolas’ eyes and it was at that instant that the elf saw how difficult this was for him. The Istar Pallando had come in search of his friend, hoping to bring him redemption but Legolas suspected that not even Pallando could imagine how far into darkness Alatar had descended. In his heart, Legolas felt great sympathy for Pallando and to some extent, Alatar as well, his devotion to an ideal had driven him to commit the worst atrocities imaginable. Legolas now knew where that overwhelming evil he had sensed since approaching the mountain originated. It did not come from Alatar; it came from the creatures trapped inside their cocoons.

"No, it cannot." Pallando nodded in agreement and faced his old friend once again. "Alatar, these beings you created out of Umno’s blessed must be released from their torment. What has been done to them cannot be undone and their torture continues as long as they live. Let them go, Alatar, let them go to the Hall of Mandos, as they should. Do that and we will sail the Straight Road and return home."

The vague expression on Alatar’s face seemed to clear at Pallando’s suggestion and he stared hard at his brother. For a brief instance, Legolas felt hope flicker in his heart at the possibility that Pallando’s heartfelt entreaty might have succeeded in convincing Alatar to surrender without further conflict. However that hope withered when Legolas saw the Istar’s eyes sharpen into points of flint and he stood up, his body stiffening with anger.

"You did not come here to help me!" Alatar cried out in betrayal. "I thought you came here to take my place! I have been waiting so long for you to find me, to help me! Now you wish me to abandon my duty?"

"What duty?" Pallando retorted in bewilderment. "These women have been twisted into obscene parodies of themselves. You have destroyed them more completely than any being has ever destroyed another! Let them go! Let them know peace in the bosom of Mandos. It is the least you can give them!"

"I am not keeping them alive!" Alatar screamed in fury. "They do not require that of me! They drain the life of anything they desire to feed upon. The only reason that they have not stolen your lives is because I have exerted what little strength I have left to keep them from killing you like they killed the drakes."

"Then what are you doing?" Legolas asked, his own confusion rising. "If you are not keeping them alive and they have no need of you to be nourished, why then have you remained here?"

Alatar turned to the elf and hissed, "I have remained here to see to it that  _they_  remain here. What they are cannot be unleashed into the world! I know what I have created and I have tried to undo it but the knowledge eludes me and so I remain here, keeping them and the world safe from each other."

"If they are so dangerous, why not simply destroy them? Give them the release from this twisted existence that they deserve." Legolas demanded.

"Because he does not know if he is strong enough to kill them," Pallando whispered, understanding at last why Alatar had bound himself to his creations in this dark place at the edge of all things.

Alatar, blinded by the passion of his work had allied himself with the Nazgul, in much the same way as Saruman and hunted the river women, one by one and brought them to Dol Guldur. At the fortress of Sauron’s evil, second only in darkness to Barad-dur, Alatar had put foolishly into effect his desire to create a being of purity, free of corruption, unaware that his noble ideals had already suffered that very same malaise and instead of creating purity, he had created abomination. Too late had he realized what he had wrought and tried to correct his mistake by spiriting them away from Dol Guldur when the Nazgul had withdrawn from the fortress to begin their pursuit of the One Ring and the hobbit who possessed it.

He had brought them to Ered Mithrin, hoping that its distance away from the war that Sauron had unleashed upon Middle earth would see him forgotten in the dark lord’s reckoning. Despite Sauron’s destruction, Alatar was unable to reverse what he had done to the river women and so they remained in their cocoons, the butterflies that would never emerge into the sunlight for to do so would mean that everything else living in it would die. Alatar had kept them trapped but even Pallando could see that he could hold on no more. Alatar had thought that his arrival here would mean that Pallando would take his place but the wizard had no intention of prolonging the existence of these poor unfortunates.

Legolas was correct. This had to end here.

"While they are trapped in this shell, they must be vulnerable," Legolas swept his gaze over the hatchery like a warrior preparing for battle. In essence they were, although Alatar and Pallando did not know it yet. There was only one course to take and though it pained him to do so because all these women were turned into instruments of destruction through no desire of their own and yet they would pay the ultimate price for it. "Perhaps that is the way to destroy them."

"Destroy them?" Melia stared at him. "That is my mother in there!" Her eyes looked at him with accusation.

"Melia," Legolas said gently, knowing no way to put this gently. "I cannot imagine asking this of anyone but she is not your mother. She has not been Ninuie since this Istar turned her into his creature. A river woman would die rather than become so destructive to all life. Do not let her suffer inside the shell of her ruined body. Let her go to Mandos and find some measure of peace."

"I cannot!" She turned away from him, crying out in sorrow at the choice that was being forced upon her. Tears ran down her cheeks as she saw the cocoon before her and the thing within that was once her mother. She approached it stealthily once again and placed her hand on the membrane, heeding not Legolas’ words of caution. Her heart felt as if it would shatter within her breast and she wept again as she saw the figure inside move through the fluid inside the membrane to reach her. When Melia pulled away in revulsion, she knew that Legolas was right. What was inside this shell was not her mother.

Legolas came to her, feeling more helpless than he had ever been in three thousand years and hating himself for forcing her to make such a terrible choice. "Please," he almost begged her. "I would rather die than hurt you but you must see the truth in what I say. She would not wish to live this way, no one would."

Melia wiped her tears away and nodded slowly, "I will not see her suffer any more than she already has. Let it end for her so at least she and my father can be reunited in Mandos’ realm."

Spinning around, she raised her dagger and decided that if this thing was to be done then it would be she who did, preparing to plunge the weapon into the membrane in order to end the suffering of the creature within it once and for all.

"NO!" Alatar screamed defiantly and raised his hand in her direction.

The Ranger was swept of her feet and swatted aside like a rag doll. Legolas watched in horror as Melia tumbled into the ground behind them, her body making a terrible sound of impact as she landed.

"Melia!" Legolas cried out and ran to her side.

"Alatar what are you doing?" Pallando demanded, unable to believe that the Istar had attacked the Ranger.

"I will not risk their freedom!" The Istar cried out and turned his attention to his brother. "I do not know if they can be killed but I will not risk the foolishness of others to give them their means of escape!"

"They must be destroyed Alatar!" Pallando tried once more to reason with his brother but it was becoming clear that Alatar’s mind had deteriorated in the face of his long confinement here, no doubt aided in part by the terrible guilt he must have felt for what he had done.

"NO!" Alatar screamed again, becoming more irrational by the minute.

Pallando attempted to approach him but the wizard found himself swept off his feet by an unseen force. He fell hard against the ground and discerned quickly that it was Alatar that had attacked. His heart sank at the realization that his old friend was beyond reason and that Legolas had been correct, that in the end, Alatar would give him no other choice but to fight.

  
Pushing himself up on all fours, Pallando raised his head and saw Alatar glaring at him, still surrounded by his cocoons, his eyes wide and almost feral with madness. Through his white beard, Pallando saw that Alatar’s teeth were bared. With sorrow, Pallando realized that Alatar was insane as he appeared and tried one last time to reach his old friend.

"Do not make me fight you brother," Pallando pleaded out, unashamed to beg. "I do not wish to hurt you."

"All I wanted was for you to come and help me!" Alatar screamed in turn, providing further proof of how far his mind had deteriorated. "To take my place before my life ended! I wanted to make things right again and you have taken that away from me!"

Another surge of power ripped Pallando from the floor and slammed him hard onto his back. The wizard let out a groan of pain and knew that if he did not retaliate soon, he would be injured beyond his ability to recover. Alatar’s insanity had made his powers wild and frenzied. It would exhaust him far sooner than normal to expend his strength in this way but before that his strikes could cause Pallando considerable damage. Pallando lashed out as he saw Alatar approach him, the Istar’seyes were wide and his pupils opened to the sun, clearly beyond all measure of rationality.

Hurling his own power forth, Pallando threw Alatar to the floor, face first. The crunching of bone filled the air with its sickening sound and Pallando rose quickly to his feet, hoping to incapacitate him before he attacked again. Unfortunately, as Pallando was only a few steps away, Alatar raised his eyes to his brother, revealing a smear of blood running across his nose. There was fury in his eyes as he screamed and threw out his arm, his fingers pointing at the space above Pallando’s head. Pallando looked up in time to see great chunks of rock breaking free from the ceiling, plunging towards him. He leapt out of its way just as it crashed upon the ground, shattering the marble work beneath it.  

Pallando saw the rising cloud of debris and knew that he could not hold back because Alatar was not bound with similar restraints. By now, his brother had risen to his feet and was preparing to launch another assault. Pallando did not give him the chance to do so and sent a broken piece of ceiling flying at the disgraced Istar. Alatar froze the rock in mid air and for a few seconds, the fragment remained trapped in the space between them, suspended over the floor as it struggled to choose which direction it would go. Pallando could see the strain in Alatar’s face as he maintained the battle of will and magic, his jaw clenched and his teeth biting down in a grimace of grim determination.

Suddenly the rock exploded, unable to take the pressure placed upon it. Both Istar turned away as some fragments became flying projectiles that bit into their skin and drew blood. The rest of it crumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust. It was at this point that Pallando discovered that Legolas and Melia were strangely absent during this battle. While the most sensible explanation would be that they chose to take cover since bystanders would most likely suffer gravely when caught in the crossfire of battling wizards, Pallando knew his companions would not stand idly by and allow him to face Alatar alone.

It did not take him long to realize why they had remained strangely quiet during this engagement. Pallando saw what was happening to Alatar’s hatchery and came to the shocking conclusion that Legolas and Melia were dealing with a much greater problem.

* * *

When the battle between the two wizards had first begun, Legolas had been kneeling at Melia’s side, ensuring that she was not injured severely after Alatar had lashed out at her for attempting to end her mother’s misery. Fortunately, the Ranger suffered only minor bruises and scratches, nothing that would impede her ability to fight. Though she was a little dazed when he helped her to sit up, Melia’s senses returned swiftly enough when she became aware of the pitched combat taking place between Alatar and Pallando.

"Are you alright?" He asked concerned as she gripped his arm and used it to support her attempt to stand.

"Yes," she replied quickly, wiping a line of blood from across her cheek. "Nothing is hurt that will not heal in time."

"The Istar is mad," Legolas declared, glancing over his shoulder to witness the progress of the battle so that he could ascertain how he might help Pallando.

"He was mad before this," Melia retorted bitterly, feeling no sympathy for the man.

All she could feel for him was pure hatred for what he had done to her mother. However, her attention was soon drawn away from the conflict between the Istari as her gaze rested upon one of the cocoons before her. Her eyes widened in fascinated horror as she saw a hand push against the membrane that surrounded it and then break through. The balled fist tore through the flimsy material, ripping it apart easily and sending a gush of wet fluid spraying about in all directions, splattering the other cocoons, the floor upon which it rested and even soiled Melia and Legolas’ clothes.

"By Valar," Legolas whispered softly. "They are awakening."

Tearing her way through the shell that had kept her prisoner for so long, the creature that stood up from the ruins of her fleshy cage was naked and covered with slime. Her form was very much like a woman with hair slick with fluid to appear almost black. The true color of her skin could not be discerned for the resin covering her skin was amber in its hue and masked her pigment. She paid little attention to her two observers, more concerned with her own appearance. She examined her long tapering fingers, ran their tips across her face and seemed to accustom herself with the world she had just stepped into.

For an instant, she looked like any woman and Melia found herself clutching wildly at the hope that perhaps the Istar was wrong, that whatever had been done to the River women was not as terrible as it appeared. The person before her was no monster, merely a woman appearing confused at her surroundings. If she were not a danger to others than perhaps Ninuie would be the same as well. Melia knew that desire sounded desperate but she was hurtling towards an unimaginable conclusion and was doing all that she could to avoid it.

"What are you doing?" Legolas demanded when he saw Melia take a step towards the creature.

Legolas had no such illusions about the nature of the beast before him. While it was wearing the skin of a woman, beneath it was anything but that. His elven senses could detect the terrible evil emanating from it, the evil that lay dormant now to Melia’s eyes. She was blinded by hope for her mother’s existence and fear of what she needed to do in order to release Ninuie from her torment. Legolas could not blame her for believing the creature before her was redeemable but he knew better. Even as she approached it, Legolas could see its eyes narrowing at Melia, looking at the Ranger not as a person but as prey.

"Melia!" Legolas called out before she got any further. "Hold your ground."

Melia froze in her tracks but she was not ready to believe that there was danger, not when she could see other cocoons beginning to stir with life. They were clawing at the walls of their shells, breaking out the way that this one had done. She saw the cocoon her mother was in, starting to tremble with movement and knew that soon, she would be face to face with her mother.

"Legolas, it is alright," Melia cried out in turn. "She does not want to hurt you."

Legolas was not listening. The archer had already removed his implements and was loading his bow in readiness to fire. His eye was fixed upon the creature that was staring at Melia with her dark gaze. At his request that Melia stop her approach, she turned her eyes to the elf and Legolas saw the malevolence there, followed by black hatred for interfering with her prey’s advance. "Back towards me Melia," Legolas ordered.

"But Legolas……" Melia started to protest.

"DO IT NOW!" He fairly roared, making Melia jump a little.

Melia swallowed thickly, facing the woman again and fighting the feeling that wished her to continue onward. Her prince would not make such a demand lightly and Melia could not ignore the order he had given with such intensity. Slowly she began to retrace her steps. The river woman saw that she was complying to the order of her lover and seemed to take great exception to this. Whether or not it was instinct or premonition, Melia did not know but when the woman raised her arm towards the Ranger, Melia’s first thought was to run. It was an instinct that proved correct when a dark veil seemed to surge forth from her fingertips. Diving out of its way, she heard the woman howl in rage upon missing her intended target. The dark veil came to rest on piece of wood that was probably a part of furniture in the days when Durin’s folk inhabited the city.

It crumbled and withered before Melia’s eyes, decaying in seconds when it should have taken years.

No sooner than it had disintegrated before their eyes, Legolas let his arrow fly. He aimed so that he would only need to shoot once. She saw the arrow coming and screeched an unearthly sound before raising her arms again. The strange power consumed the flying projectile and snapped it as it flew in the air. It tumbled towards the floor, its shaft withered, the quiver rusted and flaking. She raised her eyes to Legolas only to see another arrow surging towards her and this time, it was one she could not stop in time. It slammed into her forehead, tearing through flesh and bone. Black blood spurted out from the wound as the arrow’s force tore through her skull and emerged at the back of her head. She dropped to the ground wordlessly, her blood creating a pool beneath her dead body.

"Legolas! Watch out!" Melia warned loudly.

Legolas turned away from the river woman he had killed in time to see another had emerged from her pod to witness the death of her sister at his hands. Her eyes were glowing with fury as she hissed at the elf and once again that surge of power was moving swiftly towards her prey, only this time it was not Melia who was its intended target but rather himself. Legolas leapt out of the way, dodging what would almost have been certain death. He landed hard and saw Melia throwing her dagger at the beast, trying to give him time to escape the deadly reach of the creature determined to kill him.

As he scrambled to his feet, he looked up to see Melia’s dagger slicing through the body of the river woman. More and more of them were beginning to tear the walls of their prison and Legolas knew that if they were allowed to emerge from their shells, nothing would be able to stop them. He stood up as he saw more and more fingers piercing the flimsy membrane that kept them trapped, ripping away the material that had kept them secured for so long. He thought quickly as to what needed to be done and came to the swift conclusion that they were most vulnerable within their cocoons. They had to be destroyed before they emerged.

The elf thought furiously as to what was to be done and a solution came to light immediately, though he wished there was some other way to go about it. He raised his eyes to see Melia hurrying away from the creature she had struck with his dagger just as she spewed forth more evil power. The black veil did not strike his love but instead the fallen creature he had killed. Legolas saw Melia’s eyes widen in horror as the flesh decayed on the bones of the corpses, turning from rancid to dust within a space of seconds. Melia searched for him and was flooded with relief as she hurried towards him.

"What are we to do?" She demanded more than a little lost at how to combat this enemy.

Before them, all the cocoons were starting to shudder with life while Pallando and Alatar were locked in a life and death struggle. Their battle seemed almost inconsequential now, not when one considered what other dangers were beginning to awake inside the room. A thundering crash tore their attention away form the river women briefly as Legolas and Melia saw that the ceiling had collapsed due to the potent magic being used in battle by the two wizards. The shattering sound did nothing to hinder the progress of the emerging River women and it even appeared as if the noise was giving them focus in their emergence.

There was little that could not be destroyed by fire and as Legolas saw more and more of the metamorphosed River women attempting to escape their cocoons, he knew that it was the only weapon of any real use. Fire did not wither or decay, it remained unchanged no matter what power assaulted it. Igniting a small piece of wood, Legolas handed Melia his arrows and prayed that this gambit succeeded or neither of them would live to tell the tale.

"You are going to burn them?" Melia exclaimed.

"There is nothing else for it," Legolas replied without looking up as he set one of his arrows into his bow in readiness to shoot, lighting its quiver and upper shaft with flames. The fire burned quickly through the wood and Legolas could not delay in shooting.

Melia thought about her mother and knew that he was right. They had no other choice. Taking a deep breath to strengthen her resolve, she met his gaze. "Do what you must."

Legolas nodded briefly and aimed not at the ones who had torn their way out of the cocoon but rather at the one’s who had yet to surface. The arrow escaped his bow and flew across the air like the streak of a falling star. It struck the side of one cocoon, its walls thick enough to ensure that its shape did not rupture and extinguish the flame of the arrow. Instead the arrow remained steady in its side, allowing the fire to find fuel in the flesh of the cocoon before the flames engulfed it. A terrible wail screamed in their ears as the unholy creature within it discovered its doom in a symphony of heat.

One of the river women who had emerged fully screeched like a banshee in the night as she turned upon her sister’s killer. She chose not to send forth her cloud of decay but rather elected a more physical attack. She ran straight for the elf but Melia intercepted her with a powerful tackle that threw her to the floor. The creature stunned by the attack finally resorted to using her dark powers but as she attempted to cause Melia’s destruction, a force almost as powerful as hers, swept her across the ground, causing her to roll like bales of hay.

Melia rose to her feet and saw Pallando staring at her in relief while Legolas wore an expression of gratitude. However, her prince could not stop to express his happiness at seeing her alive, not when he had much to do. He continued to shoot at the remaining cocoons and even at the creatures half emerged while Pallandoreturned to the task of fighting Alatar who was determined to ensure the survival of his charges. Melia ran behind Legolas and removed the sword strapped to his back. The other river women who had escaped the wrath of his archery would soon converge upon him and Melia intended to offer him as much protection as she could.

Glancing briefly over her shoulder when an arrow surge past her, striking the fleshy membrane of another cocoon, Melia could not help but be awed by the skill of her lover when he wielded his favorite weapon. There was no doubt in her mind that his aptitude was enhanced by his elven heritage but Melia was certain that his reputation with a bow had been earned through sheer natural ability. When he strung his bow, he moved with almost fluid grace and one could not help but wonder that anyone could move so swiftly and aim with such deadly accuracy.

Unfortunately, she could not continue to appraise his magnificence in battle for there was still terrible danger about her. She saw one of the river women striding forcefully towards Legolas, recognizing his strategy. She was not close enough to ensure that if she spewed forth her terrible powers he would escape. The creature was making good pace towards Legolas who had seen her but was holding fast to shoot another arrow past her. Melia hurried forward, intercepting the creature before she could reach him. Lashing her foot out, Melia struck the beast against the leg. The river woman turned sharply to her in pain, preparing to attack when Melia lashed out, her blade swinging in a wide arch and slicing the fingers from the creature’s hand.

Another pitched scream followed as blood flowed from severed digits.

"Melia!" Legolas shouted, lowering his bow as his face contorted in fear.

Melia felt arms around her, pinning her own to the side of her body. She could feel the fetid breath of the creature against her skin and immediately felt fatigued as if the life were being drained from her body. In desperation, Melia threw back her head, connecting with teeth and soft flesh that could have been the creature’s lips. The grip around her slacked and Melia broke free, turning around to see the creature that had attempted to seize her, reeling back in pain. Melia took advantage of its disorientation, swinging the heavy blade in a neat arch and taking the River woman’s head. The weight of the broadsword almost made Melia stumble and she wondered how Legolas endured carrying the thing on his back.

Remembering Legolas made Melia turn to her lover. His efforts had set the room ablaze and the air was filled with screams of agony as the fire did its work to protect Middle earth from the creatures that might have wrought its complete destruction if allowed to escape. Suddenly, the creature whose fingers she had taken was upon her lover while Legolas ignored the advance to cause as much damage as possible. He knew that shooting an arrow would do little good and so Legolasopted for a more direct attack. Hissing with anger, the river woman lashed out at him as if he were a fly. The elven prince flew through the air from the first blow, landing hard on the floor not far away. Ribs that had only weeks ago been broken due to his encounter with the Olog Hai, snapped anew, sending a groan of pain through the prince.

Despite his injury, he saw the creature advancing upon him. Legolas forced himself to his feet, a groan escaping his lips as his stood up painfully. He had lost his grasp of his bow when the creature had attacked and he searched the ground for it. When he found his weapon, the prince felt his heart sink at the realization that he would need to pass the creature before him in order to retrieve it. The river woman, seeing that she had been able to hurt him with the slightest exertion of her powers, grinned triumphantly, a manic smile stretched across her face as she prepared to attack again.

"Legolas!" The Ranger shouted, catching his attention.

Legolas averted his gaze to Melia and saw her flinging his sword at him. The prince hurried forward catching the blade with one hand and swiftly firming his grip around the hilt to strike. However, the enemy did not use her considerable strength or the dark blast of power that could wither everything in its path. Instead her splayed out fingers aimed at his direction did something else that was as unexpected. He found that he was suddenly fatigued, as if all the life was being drained out of his body. In a matter of seconds, he was overcome with such overwhelming exhaustion that he could barely stand. Legolas dropped to his knees weakly, seeing the creature close in on him, that same sneer of victory across her face.

Suddenly, a burning arrow struck her full in the neck. The quiver tore through her throat, burying the arrow so deeply in her neck that it almost protruded from the other side of her neck. She screamed at the fire that soon ignited her hair and stamped furiously at herself to extinguish the flame. The malaise that had gripped the prince left him during her agony and he struggled to stand as he saw her hair starting to burn. Though he was considerably weakened, he was not worsening and Legolas watched with stomach turning disgust as the woman before him resemble a candle when her head was soon consumed with fire. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the perspective, she did not suffer long for a second arrow soon flew, this one striking her heart and killing her dead where she stood and ending her agony.

Melia lowered the bow that felt uncomfortable in her hands. She preferred her own crossbow and no matter how well she might shoot with the one she now held in her hands, Melia felt that it was rightly Legolas’ to use. However, when she had seen her prince in danger, she had thought only of saving him.

The room was now ablaze with fire from their onslaught upon the sealed cocoons. They had killed enough in battle to ensure that no more of the creatures had escaped to wreak havoc upon Middle earth. Melia took a step towards Legolas who from where she was standing looked deathly pale.

Suddenly, his head snapped up in panic and he cried out, "Melia, behind you!"

Melia turned around and saw the cocoon her mother had inhabited to be torn open, its resinous fluids spreading out in a large pool. There was a moment of clarity when she felt a hand clench her throat, lifting her easily off the ground and felt her legs dangling helplessly in mid air. The air was forced from her lungs as she struggled to escape the vise like grip the creature had upon her. Melia stared into the face of the beast and felt her heart sink with an anguish she could not even begin to express. The face before her was one she recognized well enough. She had seen its features in the mirror so many times during her life.

It was Ninuie who was trying to kill her.

Legolas had rushed to her aid, not caring that his body had been drained of its strength, knowing only that the woman he loved would die if he did not force himself to move. He reached her, preparing to strike when the creature raised her hand at him and he was struck by that terrible feeling again, unable even to lift his sword high enough to strike. He was driven to his knees once more as a terrible weight pulled him to the ground. He wanted to gasp but he had not the strength to do even that.

"Melia," he croaked in anguish, unable to help her or himself.

"Stop it!" Melia pleaded helplessly with the creature that was once her mother. "You are killing him!"

The creature did not seem to register that she had spoken at all and Melia tried the only thing she could think of and it was a measure steeped in desperation. "Mother, please."

The eyes of the creature that was once Ninuie snapped open, staring at her daughter in shock. For a few seconds, she did nothing but stare at the victim in her grip before clutching Melia’s head with her other hand, forgetting Legolas all together. Melia did not know what to think as she felt nails digging into her hair as she was held securely by the back of her skull and forced to look into the face of the river woman before her. The Ranger was certain the creature was going to kill her for daring to remind her of who she once was. Melia did not care because though she saw Legolas lying face down on the floor unmoving, the slight rise and fall and his body indicated that he was still alive.

It did not matter if she died, as long as he lived.

Suddenly, Melia heard the creature who had been her mother, speak. The word escaped her like a strangled whisper but Melia recognised it.

"Hezare."

And that was the last coherent thing Melia knew before everything around her spun out of control.

* * *

_Images exploded in her mind in blinding flashes of light that made her flinch._

_Melia_ _tried to understand what was happening but could not conceive of any explanation that might shed light upon what was happening to her. She could feel Ninuie’s grip still tight around her throat but the pain seemed distant somehow, eclipsed by what was taking place about her. A moment ago, she had been standing in the middle of a monstrous hatchery, crying out in fear because her lover was being slowly drained of his life force by a creature that was once her mother. Now she was still in that creature’s grip but they were no longer where they once were._

_Around them was the wood and its fragrance assaulted her lungs with its fresh scents of moist, living trees and loamy soil. It was a scent that had cradled her to sleep on many nights alone while she was a Ranger roaming the wilderness. The smell was powerful and the heat of the sun overhead was just as intoxicating. Melia would have become lost by its power if she had not known that none of this was real. She had presence of mind left to understand that this was something that she was seeing in her mind, not a state of reality._

_Still, for an illusion, it seemed oddly familiar, Melia tried to place it but the memory was too far back in her mind to be able to place it clearly. She saw the Anduinbefore her, running through the landscape and knew it could be no other river for she knew the land well after years of searching for Ninuie by its banks. Melia tried to look at the creature holding her captive but the river_  _woman was once again silent, her malevolent gaze having lost much of its hatred and she now appeared confused and troubled. Her face was contorted into the very human expression of anxiety and Melia wondered what it was that was happening that had them both in its grip. Ninuie’s eyes were fixed on a point in the distance and Melia found herself compelled to follow her gaze._

_A man and woman were lying under a tree in the shade. It was the kind of tree that spread its branches through the air, offering shelter to any being that happened past it from the heat of the day. The couple was stretched beneath the canopy of leaves, lying together in each other’s embrace as they enjoyed themselves without shame of discovery or care in the world. They gazed at each other and Melia knew that they were in love, the kind that poets devoted so much of themselves to express and artists spent lifetimes attempting to immortalize._

_The woman with her sheeny dark hair and her luminescent skin surrendered completely to her lover, a handsome man with skin of ebony that glistened in the sun when the sunshine covered it in a fine sheen of moisture. With a start, Melia realized that he was her father. For a moment, she could not believe it but there was no denying it the more she stared at him. He looked nothing like the weathered and seasoned warrior he would become in the years ahead. Here he was young and strong, appearing as if he was ready to take on the world single handedly. Melia could do nothing but stare at what she was certain was the glimpse of the past. The past that had been stolen from Ninuie when the River woman had been turned into the creature that was about murder her own child._

_She had no memory of her mother that remained with her when she grew to adulthood and so these images of her parents in their youth were more than Melia could ever dream of having. They were so happy, she thought and wondered if her mother had wrestled with the problem of a having a mortal lover the way Legolas and Melia did. She doubted that Ninuie ever considered it because the two of them looked so happy together. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw her father holding her mother in his arms, laughing with joy and felt droplets running down her cheeks at the realization that he was never again that happy, not after he lost Ninuie._

_His daughter had brought him love but not happiness._

_Another blinding flash of light filled her consciousness and Melia shrank from it again. This time she opened her eyes to a new scene but one that was steeped in almost as much warmth as the first. There was sunshine again and a small house that sat by the banks of the Anduin with a window that faced the Misty Mountains on the Western shore. There was mallos in the garden and for an instant, the house resembled in some fashion the comfort of the hobbit holes she had seen in the Shire. Ninuie was smiling as she walked down the path away from the door and running before, taking uneasy steps was a child with dark hair and bronzed skin._

_Melia  felt her heart stop beating when she understood that she was staring at herself as a child. She was very young, not much more than an infant but she was loved by the mother who watched carefully over her. It came to her with a sudden start that it was not her memories they were seeing but rather that of Ninuie, buried deep inside her mind for so long until one catalytic event forced it to emerged from the darkness and that was the presence of her daughter. The memories were tumbling forward faster and the kaleidoscope of emotion and images were converging in a potent mix that made Melia’s head swim._

_Blackness swept over them and the sunlight disappeared from the sky. It became cold. So cold that Melia could feel the chill right through her skin. Tendrils of ice wrapped itself around her spine and made her tremble. The pain around her throat was no longer registering in her mind. The darkness around her was all encompassing. The air reeked of sinister intent and the trees that surrounded them no longer appeared comforting but rather ominous. The thunder of hooves could be heard in the distance, gaining momentum with each passing second. It grew from a faint distant sound to a loud, pounding rumble that made Melia wince at its impact upon her ears._

_Ninuie_ _was running._

_She was running on bare feet, her dress trailing behind her as she ran desperately through the tall grass, breathing hard, her face showing her terror. Dark hair followed in her wake as relentless as the unseen pursuers. The scene was visceral. It was primitive with fear and it was happening right before Melia’s eyes. Ninuielooked over her shoulder, trying to see if her pursuers were behind her but they were nowhere to be found. Yet both she and Melia could hear them. She could hear them closing in. Suddenly, Ninuie tripped over an exposed root of a tree, the sudden stop after running so fast ensured she took a nasty tumble._

_A cry of anguish escaped her lips as she tried to get to her feet and realised that her foot was injured. Dirt covered her face as well as scratches and bruises as she hobbled forward unsteadily. She was sobbing pitifully, frustrated by her injury and the growing inevitability that she was not going to escape. Melia wanted to help her but she was only an observer to what had already happened. The course of fate would not be altered, no matter how painful it was to watch._

_"I went to find my sisters," the creature before Melia stunned her by speaking._

_The river woman appeared lucid for once, her gaze still fixed on what was happening before them._

_"I was going to say goodbye, that I was leaving."_

_Melia_ _did not speak but her eyes asked the question why._

_"I was going away with him, with my man," the creature explained as if she were in a daze. "I was going to follow him to his land because I could not be without him. I knew it would not be a permanent departure for the man would not last forever, not him or the daughter I gave him but I loved him so, I would have crossed the heavens to be with him."_

_"What happened?" Melia found the strength to ask finally._

_Ninuie_ _turned her eyes to the scene once more and the sound of horses pounding in their ears soon evolved into the explosion of black emerging through the trees. It was difficult to say which was darker, the riders or their horses. Melia had never seen the things that rode hard after the fleeing Ninuie but she knew instantly what they were. The description Arwen had given her and the reputation of these beings left an indelible impression upon the mind. With their black robes trailing in the wind, their faces obscured and the horses they rode snorting with vile grunts, Melia knew without doubt that she was seeing the Nazgul._

_The Ninuie of the past had screamed at the sight of them and she was running again, despite the injury to her foot though she was not as fast as she could be. The desperation in her eyes was wide and frantic, especially when she knew that she could not escape. The Nine fanned out and surrounded the terrified Maiar spirit easily, circling her like a ring of doom. Melia felt her heart reaching out to that poor trapped woman but there was nothing she could do. One of the Nazgul broke the ring and thundered towards the frightened woman, tossing something into the air. Melia had trapped enough animals in her time to know what it was. The net fell over Ninuie and sealed her doom as easily as it sealed her in its meshed confines._

_"They drove me from the river," the creature resumed speaking. "They forced me away from my place of power. I was helpless in the Wood, they knew that."_

_"Mother," Melia whispered, finding it strange to say but aware that she had bridged an important gulf between them. "We can help you, we can find some way to return you to yourself."_

_"I had forgotten all of it," the river woman answered. "I forgot until you reminded me. I forgot my name, who I was and I even forgot the man."_

_Melia_ _did not know what to say to that._

_"He is dead, is he not?" Ninuie asked._

_"Yes," Melia nodded slowly._

_"He died believing I abandoned him," Ninuie replied, sensing it from her daughter’s thoughts._

_"Yes," the Ranger answered because there was no avoiding it._

_Ninuie_ _was silent for a moment before her eyes rose to meet Melia’s again, "I am myself here because of you my daughter. You make me remember but I feel the wizard’s power growing within me. It makes me want to hurt you, it makes me want to destroy. I will not be able to endure for long. You feel it do you not?" _

_Melia_ _was weeping but she understood. "Yes, I do."_

_"I should never have left him," Ninuie whispered softly. "I lost him the moment I chose to leave our home, long before the Nazgul took me, before the wizard destroyed me."_

_"There must be another way," Melia pleaded. "There must be some other choice."_

_"No," Ninuie shook her head. "The time for my choices is past. All there is left is the end and I must find it. I will remain myself as much as I can when we return but you must do what is necessary."_

_"I cannot!" Melia wailed, "I cannot do that!."_

_"Please," Ninuie stared at her. "Send me to the man. Send me to Hezare."_

* * *

 

Legolas felt as if he was dying.

In almost three thousand years of existence, he had never felt as awful as he did at this moment. His limbs felt like stone and each effort to move made him reconsider the entire notion as pain coursed through him. It would have been easy to let go, to let the fatigue claim him and succumb to the inviting numbness that was sweeping over his body. However, he would not yield to anything when he did not know how his Melia fared. Opening his eyes, he saw her still caught within the grip of the creature that that was her mother. She had stopped struggling and both were staring at each other almost trance like. Legolas suspected something was taking place between them but he could not even begin to guess what that might be.

Crawling towards her because he could not stand and he did not want to waste all his energy until he was ready to strike, the Prince of Mirkwood dragged himself painfully across the debris-covered floor. The air was thick with smoke and he wondered if Pallando still lived. A moment later, his question was answered as he saw Alatar spinning in the air before the Istari slammed into the floor, not far away from him. Alatar’s energy seemed to have drained with that final assault and he moved no more. Legolas watched as Pallando stepped forward, his eyes wet with tears as he approached his friend. The elf felt the wizard’s sorrow, knowing that Pallando had been given no choice but to put down his brother like one would put down a rabid animal. Legolas prayed he would never have to make such a choice.

"Pallando!" Legolas let out a gasp, snapping the wizard out of his grief and returning the remaining Istar’s mind back to their present circumstances.

"Prince," Pallando hurried to the Prince and noted his condition. "You have been drained of your energy. You must rest and recover your strength."

"I care not for that!" Legolas gasped, "something is happening between Melia and that thing!"

Pallando helped Legolas to his feet, using his healing powers to infuse the elf with some measure of strength. The Eldar had remarkable powers of recuperation and it required only a little exertion for Legolas’ natural abilities to give him a little more energy to function. Legolas pushed away from the wizard once he had power enough to walk on his own but each step forward came at a price and the prince knew once he had submitted to the will of his exhaustion, he would be quite immobile for some time. His hands grasped tightly the sword in his hand as he strode purposefully towards Melia, ignoring the pain and the pull of exhaustion upon his limbs.

"Careful prince," Pallando warned as he hurried next to Legolas’ side. "Their minds are linked. You may kill one and hurt both."

Legolas stared at him in frustration, "this cannot go on! Who knows what this link between them is doing to Melia."

As soon as he said those words, both the creature and Melia returned to life. The river woman relinquished her grip on Melia’s throat, dropping the Ranger to the floor. Melia hit the ground hard, coughing and clutching her throat as she tried to recover her senses.

"Melia!" Legolas called out and started towards her, his teeth gritting against the pain.

Melia wanted to answer but her mother’s voice kept her from doing so. Ninuie looked down at her, appearing as if she was still herself but that grip upon her sanity and her purity was waning fast. Even now, Melia could see the darkness creeping into her eyes again. They did not have much time.

"Do it," Ninuie ordered, her voice strained as if she battled even through her words. "Do it now before I harm you. I cannot endure any longer!"

"No," Melia started to sob, crying out against the unimaginable course she had to take. "Do not ask me this!"

"It must be done!" Ninuie hissed. "Release me while you still can!"

Melia blinked her tears away and turned to Legolas, sobbing as she cried out to him "finish her prince. Finish her!"

Legolas nodded, understanding completely. He had heard the exchange between mother and daughter and was saddened by the choice that Melia was forced to make but he had the power to spare her the agony of doing the deed herself and he would not fail her. Taking a deep breath, Legolas raised the sword in his hand and swung hard and true. The blade seemed to slice through air, making a slight swoosh of sound before the Prince pulled back with expert handling. For a moment, no one uttered a word and all that could be heard in the room was the crackling fire.

Ninuie’s head tumbled to the ground first, causing Melia to burst into fresh tears as the grisly scene unfolded. Her body collapsed soon after and both men let out a heavy breath. Legolas dropped to his knees as the last of his strength left him and he was overcome by the effects of the river women’s attacks. He cursed his inability to move because Melia was sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, breaking his heart with each sound she made. He wanted to comfort her but he could not even crawl towards her in his lamentable condition.

"Melia," Legolas croaked as he rested on all fours, aware that soon he would meet the ground.

She looked up at him, her face filled with sorrow but was moved into action when she realised how badly harmed he was by the battle. She scrambled across the floor and came upon him, clutching his body in an embrace as if she would never let go. As weak as he was, just feeling him against her was enough to sooth Melia’s sorrow. Melia knew deep in her heart that he had been right all along, Ninuie needed peace and now thanks to him, Legolas had been able to give Ninuiewhat Melia had not been able.

"Thank you Prince," she whispered as she held him in her arms. "I could not have done it."

"I would spare you that anguish my love," Legolas whispered weakly. "I would never see your heart broken by forcing you to do it."

"I love you," Melia said softly, holding him even tighter.

"I love you Mia," he answered with a weak smile. "Your mother’s soul will find her way to the halls of Mandos."

Melia nodded and hoped that perhaps Ninuie would find Hezare too.


	10. The Elven Lord of Ithilien

A thousand years into the Third Age of the Sun, the Istari had stepped onto the shores of Mithlond, having completed their journey form the Timeless Halls to begin their work in Middle earth. If it were not for Alatar’s insistence that he joined the brotherhood, it was quite possible that Pallando would still be there. Their friendship had been older than time and for many years after their arrival in Middle earth; Alatar and Pallando had been constant companions. They traveled to the Far East, saw the lands and people they existed there before returning to the West again.

When they had parted company, in some way Pallando knew it was a mistake and that his departure would come at a price. Alatar’s dreams had made him irrational and had taken his mind away from the duty that they had sent here to accomplish. Pallando should have remained at his side and tried harder to sway him back to their proper course. However, he had not. He had chosen to leave and now he found himself in this terrible place in time, aware that all that had transpired could have been avoided if only he had chose to stay with Alatar.

Standing over the ruined and broken body of his friend, Pallando wanted to weep as much as Melia had wept in Legolas’ arms at this instant. He lowered himself to his knees and brushed his hand against Alatar’s hollowed cheeks, knowing that he was dead. Alatar had given him no choice but to act and with chaos ensuing around him, Pallando had been decisive in his attack. The Maiar, who was his best friend in the world, no longer lived. Pallando wondered if his death had come long before this because the Alatar he knew would not have been party to the nightmare they had seen inside this room.

"I am sorry old friend," Pallando whispered softly. "I should not have left you."

Unfortunately, Alatar was beyond hearing anything.

He would have like to have buried Alatar but there was no time for such rituals. The fire was stinging his eyes and the Prince was struggling valiantly to remain conscious but it was obvious it was a battle he was losing. The creatures attack upon him had been severe even for his Eldar metabolism. Pallando would have to aid him in his recovery or there was every possibility he may never recover. It was the least he could do for Thranduil’s son after failing Alatar so utterly.

"Pallando," Melia called out when Legolas finally slumped into her arms. "We must get him out of here, now."

Pallando nodded and rose to his feet. The Ranger seemed more composed than previously but the wizard was sensing something rather disturbing from her. It was as if her heart had hardened against the pain of all that she had seen and she was allowing nothing to breach it again. Did this also mean the same of her love for her Prince? The wizard could not answer that question but he did not hesitate in reaching her to aid her with the unconscious elf that had endured as long as he was able considering the nature of the enemy’s attack upon him. Melia fastened his bow across her back and replaced his weapons before she and Pallando dragged him to his feet.

Both of them were coughing intermittently now as they hurried out of the burning chamber, with Pallando being able to do nothing more for Alatar’s dead form than to give him a farewell glance. They emerged from the chamber and hurried away from the fire. Whether or not it would spread through the rest of the city was uncertain but at this point none of them seemed to care. The darkness here needed purging and if it was a cleansing to be done by fire than none of them would argue the point.

"I am sorry about your friend," Melia said softly as they moved through the chamber where the drakes’ had died with their hoard.

"Thank you," Pallando whispered. "I know it cannot be easy for you to say that after what he did."

"I do not forgive him for anything," Melia said icily, not about to deny that her feelings towards Alatar would ever be anything but bitter. There were no words for what he had done no justification to destroy life as completed as he had but she did see that his death had hurt Pallando deeply and the wizard who had saved her life and Legolas’ had earned her sympathy. "I am sorry for your pain. I know that he meant a great deal to you."

"He did," Pallando nodded. "I would not be here in Middle earth if it was not for him. I was going to take the Straight Road home. I had hoped it was not too late for him."

"What will you do now?" Melia asked. "Will you leave?"

Pallando did not answer for a few seconds. It would have been easy to leave the world behind, to return to the Timeless Halls and forgot that this ever happened but he could not. He could not return home with the specter of Alatar’s absence to remind him of his failure.

"No," he answered finally. "I am not ready to take the Straight Road yet. It may be a long time before I am ready to do that, not after all this."

Melia nodded somberly, feeling as if she was just as unprepared for the next step herself. Her heart felt burnt out and there was nothing left inside her that wanted to feel. Buried under all this grief was her love for Legolas but she could not see it for her grief. Pallando sensed this within the young woman and it alarmed him greatly for he believed that the Ranger was about to reach a heartbreaking decision because of her grief that was premature and ill advise.

"You are leaving him," Pallando stated. It was more of an accusation more than it was a question.

Melia looked up at him and did not answer but then she did not have to. Her eyes spoke for her.

* * *

Elves were not prone to such black sleep but when awareness finally came up Legolas almost three days after he had fallen, he was gripped with a great sense of lost time that left him uneasy upon awaking. His dreams had not been pleasant and when he awoke finally to find himself in the same cave that Pallando had first offered them refuge after Melia had been injured by goblins, he was unable to shake the sense of some foreboding evil lurking in the shadows. Fortunately, his return from the dreamscape assured him that he was on the road to recovery after his battles with the river women. Though he felt tired still, there was none of the fatigue and exhaustion that had threatened his life earlier.

Upon awaking, his first thought was to sit up and upon doing so, found Pallando staring at him across the small cave. A fire was burning in the middle of the space and outside Legolas saw that it was night for the star brought the twilight alive with its glimmer. Pallando’s expression was sad and Legolas supposed that it was most likely because the wizard was still suffering the loss of his dear friend. Legolas had seen Alatar’s state after their battle and he doubted that the disgrace Istar had survived the combat. However, something else soon dawned upon the Prince of Mirkwood, something that struck cold fear into his heart.

"Where is she?" Legolas demanded for he saw no presence of Melia in herself or her belonging throughout the cave.

Pallando drew in a long breath and Legolas felt his heart pounding because he knew that wizard’s answer before the man spoke.

"She is gone," he answered softly, feeling for the elf and the sorrow that would soon envelope him.

"Gone," Legolas said mutely.

"She said you would understand," Pallando answered and could tell by the fading sparkle in his eyes, that Legolas did not understand at all. Not one bit. "She helped me bring you here and then she departed after she was certain you would recover. She said that she was returning to Angmar."

Legolas swallowed thickly, forcing down the bubble of frustration and anguish that was rising up his throat like bile. His mind screamed in betrayal and fury as her departure. He could not believe after all they had endured together, she still could not trust him and could leave him so easily, without so much as a word of farewell. Once again, he was forced to wonder how much of this had been planned before her departure. After all, she had refused to give him an answer to his proposal, using the quest for her mother as an excuse to deny him. Had she never planned on staying with him? Had everything she had said a lie? To ensure that he remained and helped her find Ninuie? Legolas refused to believe that Melia could be so calculated. He swore by his life that she had meant everything she said to him and yet, she was still gone. How was he supposed to believe anything else?

"Are you alright?" Pallando asked quietly, aware that he was anything but that. Nevertheless, the wizard felt compelled to inquire.

"Yes," Legolas spoke not quite his own. Considering that his soul was weeping inside him, Legolas acquitted himself rather well, showing little sign of grief or his anger at her actions as he stared at Pallando.

The pain that was coursing through him was beyond belief and he knew he should have expected this on some level but hope had blinded him from the reality of the situation. What had taken place with her mother was further proof of why they should be apart, the unbridgeable differences between mortal and elf. Knowing this, did not make it any easier to bear and the emotion that suffused him more than astonishment at her abandonment of him, was anger. He was angry that she would arbitrarily make this decision for them, yet again. Had he not learnt how accustomed she was to running after what had happened between them at Thranduil’s court?

"She wished you well," Pallando offered, knowing that what words he offered would be cold comfort to the prince who was trying so hard to keep his emotions contained even though it was obvious that he was hurt badly by his lady’s actions. "She said you fought bravely and that she would always love you but you know the reasons why she had to depart."

Legolas did not speak. He lay down on his bedding and rolled away from the wizard. His eyes were glistening despite his best efforts to conceal his sorrow and he wished to be spared the indignity of having  _all_  his emotions exposed to Pallando. With his back to the man, Legolas was grateful when the Istar did not try and console him with words and left him alone to his silent tears.

* * *

Despite the emotional pain he suffered at Melia’s abrupt departure, Legolas recovered quickly and far sooner than Pallando gave the elven prince credit, they were ready to depart the Grey Mountains. Legolas had invited Pallando to return to the Woodland Realm with him and as the wizard had no present destination in mind for himself, the suggestion did not disagree with him. Pallando decided it would not be so terrible to visit with Thranduil again and a part of him felt protective towards the Prince who had saved Middle earth from an unimaginable peril by destroying the river women Alatar had twisted so irrevocably.

For one who had fought so bravely against such terrible odds, Pallando thought it was terribly unfair that Legolas would be rewarded by the loss of his love. While Pallando understood the reasons for Melia’s departure, he did not condone it, not when it was bringing them both such heartache, he was certain. He was sure that much of her desire to leave had to do with the terrible ordeal of being the one to give the order for her mother’s death. Even if Ninuie had asked for her life to end, it was no easy thing for any child to see dead the parent she had spent so much time attempting to find.

Once they had began the journey towards Mirkwood, Legolas spoke nothing of Melia and seemed to have purged all memory of her from his mind. Of course, Pallando knew that this discard was only surface deep and no doubt, in his heart, the lady was never far away. However, he respected Legolas’ wishes and made no mention of the Ranger, knowing that such talk would only bring Legolas pain. Whatever route Melia had taken home to Angmar, there was no sign of her departure when Legolas and Pallando begin their own journey to Mirkwood. No doubt the lady had chosen to avoid the goblins they had encountered earlier by finding the vein of the Anduin and crossing it into the western shore.

The two travelling companions however, made for the Woodland Realm and thanks to Pallando’s ability to generate light in the darkness, they were free from the plague of goblins until the entered the great wood of Eryn Lasgalen or Mirkwood as it was known to most. The Wood of the Greenleaves had changed a great deal since Pallando’s last visit. In those days, the woods were a perilous place and the Silvan elves who held dominion fought to keep the passage through it open despite the evil things that Sauron had let loose into the forests from his fortress at Dol Guldur.

Of course much had changed since the War of the Ring and when Pallando entered the Woodland Realm once more and found himself soon in the court of Thranduil, he saw just how much the world had progressed during his travels in the east. The southern woods once a place of darkness had become the home of the elves of South Lorien and the space between were inhabited by the Northmen who aided Thranduil in the past to defend against Sauron’s minions at Dol Guldur. The fortress itself was completely gutted and for the first time in so long, Mirkwood belonged to the true people Middle earth.

Thranduil was happy to see the return of his old friend and even happier to see his son. They spoke nothing of Melia but it was plain to see that Thranduil knew about her by the tension in the air. This mood did not dissipate even after the king ordered a feast and celebration for the return of the Prince and to entertain his guests. At the event, Legolas played the part of the gracious prince, happy to be home again but the court was whispering about the absence of Melia and those who knew the Prince could see the sadness in his eyes of which he would not speak to anyone. Even Thranduil’s expression seemed strained because he knew his child was in pain and could do little to ease it.

Legolas tried hard not to show the court his somber mood but he could not help it. The Prince of Mirkwood displayed an impassive front to all that saw him because a prince always kept his emotions well hidden, Thranduil had taught him that. On this occasion, it seemed to serve because it kept anyone from asking him any uncomfortable questions. He could see it burning in their eyes every time they gazed upon him, the intense curiosity to know what it was that had transpired between Melia and he. Especially after her last appearance at court had seen her wearing his mother’s chain, a gesture that could only mean intimacy between them.

Since she had left him, Legolas had done nothing but rationalize her behavior, trying to see their relationship from her point of view. He knew she feared he would leave her, the way her mother had abandoned her father. Surely, he had proven himself to her by his love and his actions, that he would never do such a thing? How much more did he have to earn her trust? What was to say that she would not leave him? He bound himself to her already and he knew that until he passed from the land of the living, he would always yearn for her. The ache in his heart was more than he could stand; it gnawed away at him constantly, even when he tried to put her behind him.

For better or for worse, Melia was apart of him now and that was all there was to it.

The discussion that Legolas had returned home to have with Thranduil took place the next morning within the king’s throne room. It was Thranduil’s habit to rise early and look over his agenda of the day within the silence of his throne room, for that was one place that no one would dare enter without invitation or a very good reason. With everything that had occurred in the Grey Mountains, this was not an audience that Legolas’ was looking forward to, unfortunately he had no choice in the matter. His father deserved an explanation and he deserved it face to face with his son.

"Father," Legolas announced himself.

"You are up early," the king rose his eyes to his son, lowering the scrolls in his hand.

"What I must say to you cannot wait," the prince replied.

Thranduil stiffened and his jaw set, "is this about the Ranger?"

Legolas felt himself infuse with anger at the mention of Melia’s name, especially when it came from Thranduil. His father had been part of the reason why she had gone. If Thranduil had been more encouraging of their feelings for one another, it might not have led her to the decision she had made to abandon Legolas. She was already filled with enough doubt when they came to Mirkwood to have Thranduil’s deepen her anxieties. Rather than led anger induce him into saying something he would regret, Legolas calmed his temper because he had not come here to argue with his father.

"No," he said with equal rigidity. "It is not. She has returned to Angmar. What there was between us is done."

Thranduil absorbed this but he was not about to let the matter go just yet, not when Legolas had finally deign to speak of it to him.

"You have bound yourself to her haven’t you?" It was not a question but rather a statement of fact.

"That is none of your concern," Legolas replied tautly because it was obvious enough that he had. His father had the same senses he had and would know it.

"You bound yourself to a human who has left you," Thranduil shook his head in disapproval. "I warned you that this was ill advised. I know she loved you but she was far more sensible than you in her conduct. I know it will take a long time but you must try to forget her."

"Were you able to forget my mother?" Legolas accused.

"That is different," Thranduil returned shortly. "I have some chance of being reunited with your mother. When your Melia is dead, she will go beyond you and the only way that you will ever see her again is to die."

"Well that is not going to happen is it?" Legolas tone became viciously, what restraint he had been maintaining during this audience with his father was now lost completely. "She left me. Without a single word, like a thief in the night she left me! I did not even warrant a moment of her time to say farewell. She crept past me like a coward, not daring to even say it to my face!"

The hurt in his eyes made Thranduil’s heart ache in his breast and the king wished that his son was a child again, when the pain the boy sustained was no more than a skinned knee and within Thranduil’s power to take away by soothing words. This kind of anguish was different because the king could do nothing to ease his son’s sorrow and he wanted to, badly. Thranduil’s did not begrudge Melia her decision, aware that it was most likely the sensible thing to do but it had come to late and now his son was bound to love her forever and for an elf, that was a terribly long time.

"She loved you son," Thranduil finally spoke. "Whatever she did, she did because she loved you. Perhaps she wanted to spare you this pain or perhaps she believed a little cruelty now would be kinder for you in the future. I do not know for certain her reasoning but I know she loved you."

"Then how could she leave me!" Legolas exploded. "I did not care that she would die someday. I was prepared to face the emptiness that followed her passing. What more I did I have to prove to her that my love would not wane with time?"

"Because the Edain do not love as we do," Thranduil rose from his chair and went to his son who was trying not to remain composed but failing. He placed his hands upon Legolas’ shoulders and bade the prince to meet his eyes when he resumed speaking. "For them, life is short and to bind themselves to one person for all time when it is so easy for them to die is folly. They fall in and out of love at a whim. I have no doubt that your Melia loves you but she can forget in time. You will not. There is nothing I can say to advise you in this except to say that you must try and do the same, hard as it is. Time does heal all wounds."

"I cannot forget her," Legolas confessed, "I carry her in my heart wherever I go but I will try to go on without her."

"That is all that can anyone can do," Thranduil replied with approval though he knew that gave Legolas little solace.

Legolas sucked in deep and strained breath that managed to quell the churning emotions inside of him. He had almost broken down in front of his father and he was too old and too much the warrior to endure that exposure. Regaining his composure, he did not look up at Thranduil when he spoke again.

"Father I am leaving,"

"I know," Thranduil answered.

Legolas looked up in surprise at his father’s revelation. "How did you….?"

"I know you my son," Thranduil replied, his eyes filling with emotion in a way a king was not supposed to show anyone. "You may be three thousand years old but I was there when you first entered this world. It was I who watched your first steps and heard your first word, I may be king and I may not have been there as much as I should have during your childhood but I  _was_  there. I know that your trips away from here is not because you have business elsewhere is because your heart is not here. You will always love our home but you have no desire to be king of this realm. Perhaps that is my fault, I ruled too long and should have relinquished the crown to journey to Undying Lands. It was not my wish to deny you what was rightfully yours."

"No," Legolas quickly countered, not wishing his father to think that for an instant. "For me, you will always be the King of Mirkwood. I cannot see myself as king because I cannot imagine Eryn Lasgalen without you. I do not want your throne nor do I want you to leave in order to acquire it. I want to find my own destiny father, just as you when you came here so long ago. My fortunes lie elsewhere but my love for the Wood of Greenleaves will always be, just as my love for you."

Father and son captured each other in a heartfelt embrace. For once, Legolas found that it was good to not be the one who was oldest, who should know everything and simply succumb to being the one who was in pain and resting in the comfort of the father who cherished him above all else. He wanted to weep, to tell his father that being without Melia was cleaving his heart in two with such pain he could not stand it. However, he knew what his father would say because in that one matter, they could not reconcile. Thus he remained content for a moment to feel Thranduil holding him as if he were a little boy again, stung by some little hurt, being soothed by the father who had tried to hard to make up for the absence of his mother.

"Where will you go?" Thranduil asked when they had parted and faced each other again.

"I am going to Ithilien. There is a great forest there. It survived through some miracle despite being in such close proximity to Mordor. Faramir, Lord of Ithilien has washed his hands of the southern lands and King Elessar believes that if an elven presence is established in the South Wood then it will drive what remaining orcs and evil remaining from Sauron’s reign away for good. I would like to try and establish a colony in South Ithilien," Legolas explained.

"You have thought this out well," Thranduil commented.

"I have," Legolas smiled faintly, pleased that his father had approved his decision. "I have also been conversing with Elladin and Elrohir of Imladris. Since the departure of Lord Elrond, the elves that chose to remain in Middle earth do not feel that it is the same without him. I believe that if I were to offer them a place in South Ithilien, a good number of them may join me."

"Then you should take Nunaur with you as well," Thranduil offered.

"Nunaur?" Legolas exclaimed with some measure of surprise, "why?"

"I think he grows restless with his role here," Thranduil explained with a sigh. "Since the new lands have opened up southwards, he is displaying more and more a desire to see the world beyond Mirkwood. I think sending him with you will make it easier for him to leave since he believes himself bound to serve me."

"Are you sure?" Legolas looked at his father. He would be pleased to take his father’s captain to South Ithilien. With the challenges there, an experienced elven captain was always an asset and Legolas was further ingratiated by his father’s acceptance of his choice. "I know that he is dear to you."

Thranduil’s expression became thoughtful and he gazed at his son in unbidden affection, "sometimes when you love something, it is necessary to let it go."

"Thank you father," Legolas said softly, knowing it was not Nunaur that he was speaking of.

"You are welcome my son," Thranduil smiled, "and you will always be welcome here."

* * *

Legolas remained in the Woodland Realm for another two weeks, using that time to prepared for his return to Minas Tirith where Aragorn’s efforts on his behalf would be awaiting him. His father had ensured that he had everything he needed to set up his own kingdom in South Ithilien despite Legolas’ protestations that he did not need the assistance. Still, Thranduil was ever the protective father, desiring to see to it that his son was well provided for the undertaking that he was about to take on by establishing a kingdom of his own. In the end, Legolas decided it was best not to argue with the king for Thranduil could be extremely obstinate about such matters when the mood took him.

Thank Eru he was nowhere that stubborn, Legolas thought to himself.

It also appeared that Thranduil was correct about Nunaur wishing to leave the boundaries of Mirkwood to explore the outside world. The captain of the Woodland Realm was initially reluctant to sever his links to Eryn Lasgalen but it did not take much convincing. Eventually, Nunaur even persuaded a few of his comrades to join him and thus when Legolas finally departed from the Woodland Realm, it was with a sizeable group of elves. He made his farewells to Thranduil who discarded any effort to remain kingly in the face of his loss and the king was most vocal in expressing his sadness as seeing his son go but said nothing to burden Legolas’ heart. Pallando had opted to remain in Mirkwood for a time and of this Legolas was pleased because it appeared that he and Thranduil were good company for each other and in light of recent events, the companionship they provided each other would be good for both men.

Once again, Legolas set out from the Woodland Realm, this time making the journey by land instead of boat, owing to the horses and supplies that they had brought with them for their new colony. Most could be bought and acquired on the way but the rest could not be replaced or found anywhere else from Mirkwood and Legolas wanted his new kingdom to start on the right foot. For most of the days during their journey from Mirkwood to Minas Tirith, Legolas immersed himself in the welfare of his people and his plans once reaching South Ithilien. He forced himself not to think of Melia because it would only cause him pain and she had made the decision for both of them. Despite the anguish to his heart, he would abide by her choice because his father was right, sometimes if one loved something, they had to let it go. If Melia could not give herself to him then Legolas would not waste his time trying to convince her otherwise. He would let her go because he loved her and because that was what she wanted. No matter how much it hurt him. However, he had known what danger he had placed his heart when he gave his affections to a mortal and now he would have to suffer the price of the choice.

There were still moments however, when he would look to the west, towards Angmar and wonder if she thought of him because he was never free of her.

* * *

Upon arriving at Minas Tirith, Aragorn and Arwen were there to greet the Prince of Mirkwood and the elves that had journeyed with him from the Woodland Realm. As always, his old friends were happy to see him and were glad that his audience with his father had ended so well, especially when they learnt that Thranduil had offered Legolas his blessing. Although Legolas was disappointed to hear that Gimli had returned home to the Glittering Caves shortly before his return to the White City, Legolas was gratified to learn that the dwarf would not be away from his life for too long. The work had yet to be completed on Aragorn’s gates around the city and Gimli was too much the craftsman to let the work continue too long without his supervision.

Prior to his departure, Legolas had asked of Aragorn to send a message to Elladan and Elrohir at Imladris, to tell them of what he intended to do in South Ithilien and to invite them and as many of their people who desired it to join him. They had replied most enthusiastically to his offer and Aragorn was happy to show Legolas the return message from Imladris, indicating that they would meet Legolas in South Ithilien as soon as possible, if not on route. With this final matter finally taken care of, there was nothing left to stand in Legolas’ way and he knew that he would not remain long in Minas Tirith before he would be required to set out again. Still, for the moment however, he intended to take some time with his dearest friends in all the world for who knew when their paths might cross again.

Once his people were settled for the evening, Legolas, Arwen and Aragorn finally gained the opportunity to talk in a more informal setting. Joining the king and queen in their private suite of rooms, the elf was happy to be with his friends again, although he wondered why neither had mentioned Melia or made any inquiry about the Ranger. Legolas wondered if Aragorn had learnt that Melia had returned to Angmar and ascertained something had precipitated that return after their urgent departure from Minas Tirith what seemed almost a lifetime ago now. Legolas explained as best he could the course of their journey after leaving the White City, omitting the more personal details involving himself and Melia.

"Are you certain they are all dead?" Arwen asked after Legolas had finished his tale and they stared across each other at the table where they dined.

"I am certain they are," Legolas confessed. "Though I must confess I was no condition to see for myself after the battle was done. However, Pallando said that the fire was raging within the hatchery and nothing could survive the heat. I trust his judgement."

"Well," Aragorn said lowering his cup of wine after taking a sip. "I am glad that you fought so bravely. It would not have bode well for Middle earth if those creatures were allowed to be unleashed upon as all."

"We did what was necessary," Legolas replied shortly, not wishing to dwell too much on the subject because inevitably, he would find himself thinking of Melia again.

"You did what you always do," Arwen smiled, reaching across the table to clasp his hand. "You fought with courage, with no thought to yourself."

"You give me too much credit," the elf said graciously. "Although I sense that there is something on your minds that neither of you have deign to bring to my attention. I will spare you the trouble of finding some way to bring up the subject with me. What is it that you wish to say."

Arwen and Aragorn exchanged a brief glance across the table before Arwen nodded at the king who sucked in his breath as if he were being forced into some unpleasant duty. "We have not asked you about Melia because we saw her."

"You saw her?" Legolas’ eyes flew open. "When?"

"She came here for her horse Lomelindi," Arwen explained, her eyes full of sympathy. "Melia told us what took place between you. Legolas, I am so sorry."

Legolas swallowed hard, having no wish for them to know and his gaze fell on the space before them. His jaw clenched as he tried to compose himself to keep from showing just how much it still hurt him. If it were anyone else but Arwen and Aragorn before him, he might have succeeded in concealing his sorrow. Unfortunately, both the King and Queen of Gondor had known him far too long and so his pain remained exposed before them, much to his chagrin.

"It was her game," he spoke after a moment. "I knew what I risked when I chose to play."

"I do not believe it was a game to her," Arwen tried to speak in Melia’s defense but it was difficult to do so when Legolas’ eyes were filled with such pain. Since his arrival, he had worn that tough mask over his emotions, hiding his anguish from all that saw him. However, now in the privacy of this room before his dear friends, that mask had lowered and they saw the prince’s true feelings behind his impassive demeanor. "She loves you Legolas but her heart is still wounded from what happened in the mountain."

Aragorn had remained silent, allowing Arwen to speak about Melia to Legolas because the king did not feel comfortable about discussing so private a subject with the elf, even with the best intentions. In truth, he understood Legolas’ pain and his anger. He did not think well of Melia for simply leaving as she had. If it were Arwen who had done that to him, it was quite possible that Aragorn would behave with less restraint then Legolas was comporting himself. The elf had wisely chosen to let Melia make her own choice, even though it wounded him greatly.

"Legolas," Aragorn found his voice at last. "You do not have to speak of this if you do not wish it. We just want you to know that we are here if you need us. You are dear to us both and should you decide not to confide in us, then we will understand that too."

"Estel…" Arwen started to say but Aragorn cut her off abruptly.

"I have spoken Undomiel," Aragorn said firmly in that voice of his that tolerated no argument, even from her. "This is a private matter between Legolas and Melia. We will say nothing more."

Legolas cast Aragorn a grateful look even though the king was being treated to a frown from his wife. Legolas had the distinct impression that Aragorn would be hearing from his wife about the matter before the night’s end. However, for the present, Legolas was glad that it was at his discretion whether or not the subject should be discussed. Not wishing to be spur Arwen’s desire to help completely, Legolas found himself turning to the Evenstar.

"I know you wish to help but this matter can only be resolved by Melia and myself. She had made her choice clear and though it pains me more than I can say, I have to abide by her decision. I cannot hold her to me if she does not wish it."

"But she loves you!" Arwen cried out in frustration, hating to think that it should end so tragically between two people who were so obviously meant to be together. It pained her that Legolas should give his heart to someone after so many years alone, only to have it broken in this way. She had seen Melia’s eyes when the Ranger had told her what transpired between herself and the Prince of Mirkwood. Arwen was certain that what difficulties between them would be resolved if only they met each other face to face.

"Undomiel!" Aragorn rolled his eyes in exasperation at his wife stubbornness in this matter. "I am certain Legolas knows that."

"Evenstar," Legolas declared, "I know you mean well and you are right, I do not doubt that Melia feels something for me but she does not trust me and until that can be overcome, nothing between us is possible."

Arwen frowned, realizing that Legolas was right. Trust was vital in any relationship, even one without the complications that existed in Legolas’s and Melia’s. Arwen trusted Aragorn with her heart and soul to never betray her. She could look into his eyes and know without doubt or hesitation that he loved her and would never do anything to break her heart. It was quite a thing to have that assurance because it made everything else easy. Arwen was convinced Melia loved Legolas that much but she could not give herself to him because of her doubt. However, the Queen of Gondor was certain that Legolas was wrong about being unable to trust him.

Arwen believed that it was herself that Melia did not trust.

* * *

Legolas did not remain long in Minas Tirith and shortly after receiving blessings from Aragorn as well as a few documents from the king making his claim to south Ithilien a legitimate enterprise, the elves departed from Gondor. Journeying down the Anduin in ship large enough to carry horses and all their supplies, Legolas and his elves soon arrived at Pelargir. For the elf, returning to Pelargir brought back the memories of the past as he recalled that it was at Pelargir that Aragorn truly defined himself as King of Gondor. With the dead of Dunharrow at his side, Aragorn had defeated the Corsairs, Sauron’s minions who had brought Gondor to the brink of collapse. At Pelennor Fields, the last battle had been fought and Legolas remembered standing at Aragorn’s side in that conflict seeing the forces rallied against them and perfectly willing to die to win the day.

The world had changed that day in more ways then they knew. They had changed with it too and as Legolas and his band of elves rode through the streets of Pelargir, now a bustling sea port with the frantic excitement of people of all races coming and going about their business, he saw how much it had changed. It did not take the group of elves long to reach the woods of South Ithilien and it was indeed as magnificent as it was claimed to be. How the wood had managed to remain unspoiled by Sauron and his minions was truly and miracle and as Legolas and his elves found themselves the ideal spot in which to build their new home. Situated by the banks of the River Poros, the new elven city of Eden Ardhon meaning ‘New World’ in the Sindarian tongue, would be built in the spirit of the elven kingdoms of past ages past..

Of course claiming the land and making it theirs was nowhere as easy as it appeared. Even with the arrival of Arwen’s brothers, Elladan and Elrohir who brought with them, elven smiths who were master craftsmen in the number who had departed Imladris, they were still plagued with difficulties of weather, land and of course the inevitable attack by Orcs. Still Legolas enjoyed the challenge of taming a new land and his attention was busy enough during the day that there was little time to notice the emptiness in his heart where Melia should have been. At night however, he was not so fortunate as to be able to forget and in those silent moments in the night, when he peered at the stars unable to sleep, he dreamed of her.

* * *

"You elves are a peculiar lot," Gimli remarked as he observed closely the construction of Legolas’ dwelling, the prince did not wish to call it a palace for it seemed to vulgar for a place he wanted to call his home. Unfortunately, he was the only one who seemed to think that way since everyone else considered it a palace, since nothing else would do for the elven Lord of Ithilien.

"How so?" Legolas replied as he and Nunaur studied the parchment spread across the table before them. Gimli had arrived only a few days ago, having claiming that an elf was unable to build anything that would stand the test of time unless there was a dwarf to help him. It had taken a bit of convincing, before Legolas was able to convince all the elves in the colony that the dwarf had not meant any offense and that Gimli was just being Gimli.

"All this trouble to built around the tree when you could build inside of it," Gimli retorted, staring at the huge trees who trunk was so thick that if anyone chose to carve out its innards, it would be enough space to house the entire colony. Instead the elf had chose to build his home among the loft branches of the tree, an enterprise that required steps that coiled around its thick trunk like a serpent.

"You dwarfs would destroy anything," Legolas grumbled, wondering how many times he had to have this discussion before the dwarf understood that an elf would consider it an act of murder to butcher a tree that had lived as long as the one he had chosen to support his home.

"Its just a tree," Gimli teased and saw Nunaur smiling because the captain knew that the dwarf often amused himself by baiting the elven lord.

"Like you are just a dwarf but you do not see us trying to build around you." Legolas drawled, his eyes still fixed on the plans before him. "Probably because the noise would drive us to distraction."

Gimli gave Legolas a look just as Nunaur started to chuckle.

"You can tell the smiths that this is fine," Legolas straightened up as Nunaur rolled up the parchment and made a hasty retreat before the dwarf and his lord launched into one of their infamous ideological ‘discussions. Usually this ended with either axe or arrow being drawn.

Gimli was glad to see Legolas was showing some measure of contentment. Even though there was occasionally a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, for most part, Legolas seemed recovered from his heartbreak. Part of the reason why he had come to South Ithilien was at the request of Arwen who was worried about her old friend and though Aragorn did not say it out loud, Gimli could tell the king too was concerned about the elf’s welfare. Fortunately, Legolas seemed to have moved on with his life, immersing himself in the business of building himself a new home in the Southern Wood. Judging by all the building he saw around him, it would not be long before Eden Ardhon would be as enchanting to behold as Lothlorien or even Imladris.

"See what you have done," Legolas turned to Gimli. "You have frightened away the captain of my guard."

"Elves scare easily," Gimli said smugly.

"Why are you here?" Legolas retorted. "I have enough difficulty in establishing this colony, I do not need further vexation by your company."

"Well I had to see the Elven Lord of Ithilien," the dwarf replied.

"You have ridden all this way to call me that, have you not?" Legolas stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Gimli grinned remembering how much Legolas had relished addressing him as Lord of the Glittering Caves and inspiring his ire to no end with that exalted title. It was good to know that he was able to do the same.

Suddenly, the expression on the elf’s face changed from annoyance to that of astonishment. For an instant, the color drained from his face and his jaw set hard as if he were going into battle. Gimli looked over his shoulder and saw what he was staring at with such surprise. In some ways he was, Gimli thought as he saw the lady walking across the grass towards them both. She was clad in the dress she had worn when they had celebrated the elven new year at Minas Tirith, her dark hair worn loose over her shoulder. In her hand she held a bundle of clothes and a crossbow. 

When she stopped walking, Melia and Legolas stood before each other, the space between them felt like a great chasm that was kept them beyond each other’s reach. Neither said a word as they basked in the sight of each other even though much needed to be said between them. Legolas looked like a statue carved out of marble as he stared at Melia, his expression unfathomable. Melia’s expression was equally cryptic. Time seemed to stretch into an eternity as neither said anything and the waiting drove Gimli mad with impatience. Finally, the dwarf could endure no more.

"Well if you’re both just going to stand there, I’m going to leave! But before I go, let me be the first to say that its about time you both grew up and just get on with things!"

With that the dwarf made a less than discreet exit, hoping that his words would spur either one of them into resolving the matter between them. Legolas threw Gimli a little glance at the dwarf left but he made no effort to speak and after a moment, his eyes returned to Melia, boring into her mercilessly. Were his gaze a dagger, he would have drawn blood by now.

Melia dropped the belongings in her hand at his feet before raising her eyes to meet his, waiting for him to say something. He did nothing of the kind and continued to stare.

"I am sorry," Melia whispered softly when she realized that he was going to say nothing unless she did so first. Melia supposed that it was fair considering her actions at their last encounter. She behaved badly and she knew it. Though he remained as impassive as stone at this instance, she knew what she had done had hurt him badly and there was no adequate apology that would ever make up for it. However she had to try. Melia had to try because she loved him and this time, it was  _her_  turn to fight to make Legolas hers again.

"It was cowardly and unfair to leave you as I did. I was wrong," she continued to speak, never believing an apology could be so hard to make. "I used my mother’s death as an excuse for why we could not be together when in truth, I was afraid. I was afraid that I would fail you. You said you loved me and that you would never hurt me. I believed you all too well but I did not know if I could be trusted to feel the same for you when the years began to age my body. I did not wish to see my love for you become hatred when you were spared all the things I would endure when I grow old."

Tears were running down her cheeks and she wiped them away, looking for some assurance in his eyes that her plea had not been made in vain. He offered her no such comfort all Melia could think to do was to keep speaking. "I went home to Angmar thinking I could forget you but my heart felt as if it were torn apart beneath my breast. I could not stop thinking about you and I yearned to hear your voice, to feel your touch for every second of every day that we were apart. I am sorry I made you suffer Prince, I am sorry I made a choice for both of us without even consulting you."

Legolas’ silence remained and Melia found herself weeping before him. She wished he would speak. She did not care if he even screamed at her. She just needed to hear him say  _something_.

"Please," she begged. "Please say something."

"What would you have me say?" Legolas finally spoke, his voice low.

"Tell me you understand, tell me how you feel, anything!" She exclaimed.

"Understand what?" He demanded, the anger that he had been holding back for months finally escaping him. "Understand that you left me there, without a word of explanation! Not even to say farewell! After everything we had endured together, you could find it so easy to discard me?"

"I was confused and afraid," she stammered.

"THAT’S NO EXCUSE!" He roared. "You broke my heart when you left! Do you know that? I thought I would die when I heard you had gone! And you are here now, for what purpose? To play with my affections again? For me to give you my heart and soul only to have you toss it aside at a moment’s notice when you begin to doubt me again? I am long lived Melia but not impervious to pain!"

"I am sorry!" She wept harder. "I have no right to expect anything of you but I know that I love you and if we are bound for tragedy then it is something I swear to you we will face together. I have disappointed you Prince but no more, I promise!"

Legolas stared at her, feeling his anger give way to the effect of her tears upon his heart. He had given up hope these long months that she would ever be with him and he had not arisen a single day without wanting her in his arms, they were they had been when they journeyed to Ered Mithrin together. If it had not been for the goal he had set himself with the establishment of the colony here in South Ithilien, there was every possibility he would have died of grief. Sorrow did have that power over the heart of an elf though most did not know of it. However, he had forced himself to heed his father’s advice, to go on without her. Now she was here and she was the one begging him to trust her with his heart. How could he refuse an offer like that?

"I will hold you to that, Mia," he swallowed thickly, his heart melting before he stepped towards her and threw caution to the winds.

Their mouths met in a passionate kiss as her hands wrapped around his neck and his arms enveloped her body, pulling against his son. For a few seconds, there was nothing else in the world as they tasted each other again, tongues dueling in heat as they relished the pleasure of being with each other again. Time seemed to have frozen as they basked in each other’s scent and touch, revisiting the sensations of their passion once more. When Legolas and Melia finally parted, it was only their lips that pulled away for the Prince was not willing to let her go, not after waiting so long to feel her in his arms again.

"So Lord of Ithilien," Melia asked, happiness apparent in each word she spoke. "What now?

"Well," he returned with a teasing smile. "How about showing me the fruits of human pleasure again?"

"Not until we are wed," she declared.

"Oh so  _now_  you want to wed?" Legolas retorted. "I do not know if I want to marry you. My father warned me about mortal women you know."

"You are impossible," she pointed out.

"I am not the only one," he grinned before kissing her again and this time he knew it would be forever.

* * *

  _With the Grey Mountains behind her, she walked towards the forest, her senses seeking out, with the accuracy of a wolf tracking a bleeding stag, the life she could sense in the wood. Above her, the moon shone its full light upon her bare body and the coldness of the air could be seen by each breath of warmth that condensed it into vapor. She felt did not feel the cold that would reduce most to shivering ruin by now. She felt nothing of the kind as she walked across the land, seeking out sustenance after her enforced hunger. Her primary concern was to feed herself even though she was consumed with another need that would not be as easy to satisfy._

_Memories of fire branded her thoughts and the cries of her sisters who had all perished in the flame, accompanied her solitary journey aware from Ered Mithrin. When she had emerged from her shell, her intelligence had overridden her instinct to attack when she saw the fire. In the chaos of smoke and flame, she had chosen to leave her sisters and the battlefield, opting for survival. She had walked out of the cave and hidden herself away, hoping that the others would do the same. She had waited until the smell of smoke had died and when she returned to the birthing chamber, the enemy had already gone but the results of their handiwork had been left behind._

_She did not know how to feel grief for she was not constructed to feel the gentler emotions. The dead bodies of her sisters, some who had never even emerged from their cocoons lay before her in mass of charred and blackened flesh. Even the body of the creator was among the dead and she could only stare as growing rage suffused her soul and made her understand that she was alone. The enemy’s face was in her mind and like the fire that had branded itself upon her consciousness, so had his face upon her memory. What had the River Daughter called him with the bow and arrows carrying fiery death?_

_Legolas._

_Prince._

_She would find him. Someday, she would find him._

_And then she would destroy him._


	11. Eternity

In the year 1541 in the Fourth Age of the Sun, the last gray ship sailed from Ithilien, journeying first down the River Pouros, before entering the great vein of the Anduin. It was the last gray ship to depart Middle earth and it carried with it the remaining members of the Fellowship that still survived in this realm. It was a sad time for Middle earth for it was not long since the passing of the great King Elessar. Much of the land was still in mourning for the leader who had, for 120 years of his reign, maintained peace and prosperity through the Reunified Kingdom and ensured that the rest of Middle earth was similarly blessed. Although his son Eldarion was proving to be a good and wise king in the stead of his father, his reign was still too new for his people to love him as much.

Arwen had returned to what remained of Lothlorien, choosing to visit Cerin Armoth, the place where she and Aragorn had been betrothed. Despite Legolas’ entreaties that she should remain with her children, the Queen of Gondor was adamant. Legolas, just by looking at her, knew her reasons for going to that particular place and it was with sadness that he bade her goodbye when he left the White City, for he knew that she would die within the year if not sooner. While she may have chosen a mortal life, she was still an elf and without Aragorn, Legolas knew that she would not be long for this world.

Eden Ardhon was thriving when he left it and Legolas was certain that those behind him would follow soon enough in due course, for himself, he had ruled there for more than a hundred years and he had accomplished all that he had set out to do. His father had gone into the Undying Lands some years before and now the Woodland Realm and Thranduil’s court was fading into memory. Legolas had no doubt that Eden Ardhon would do the same in time. The valley where Imladrisused to be had become lost to men and only the few remaining elves left in Middle earth could find where it once was. Lothlorien had disappeared completely into the wood and now there was no trace of the great lady who once lived there.

Arwen had said the world changes and she was right, Legolas thought sadly.

His world had changed and when Aragorn had passed into the world, he realised how much. It was the final cut to the many wounds his heart had incurred in the last century and when he saw the light fade from the eyes of his oldest and possibly best friend, he knew that the time had come to answer the call of the sea. It was not to say that he did not have ties left behind in Middle earth, in truth he had many. The children borne of the Fellowship were dear to his heart and there were his own children, a son, Thalionhis, who now sat upon the throne at Eden Ardhon and a daughter, Annúnmelien who was wife to Eldarion and Queen of the Reunified Kingdom. He would miss them but he knew that their lives would be happy and they would go on without him.

Just as he had gone on without their mother after she had died.

Although it had been almost fifty years since Melia had passed away, for Legolas the pain was as fresh as if it were but yesterday that he stood by the plot of earth where her body had been buried two days after her death on Midsummer’s Eve. It had never truly faded away and he had awoken every morning since that terrible day to find his heart breaking a new when he realised that she was no longer at his side. Finally, he understood the pain that Thranduil had warned him of and Legolas could not deny that it was far worse than anything he had imagined was. When he remembered what they had shared together, the perils that came along the way, the adventures and even the quiet moments, he wanted to die with her. An elf could die of grief and there was more times than he would like to admit when he almost lost the will to continue.

Yet he would have changed nothing if he had the choice to live over again.

They had loved each other for as long as they were together and though it saddened him to see her grow old because her age was a reminder of his impending loss, to him she was still the beautiful Ranger he had met in the Blue Mountains. Nothing would ever change that vision of her in his eyes. There were occasions that he caught the longing in hers as she looked at him, the secret pain that he would endure long after she was gone and that he would be alone forever. However, that sorrow never tainted their love and they lived a life full of surprises but they were never apart.

With Aragorn’s passing, there was nothing left to hold him in Middle earth and since Gimli still lived, Legolas did not wish to see another friend lost to the ravages of mortality thus he invited the dwarf to join him on the grey ship to the West. Gimli, the curmudgeon that he was would not admit that part of his reason to accompany Legolas to an isle full of elves was to see Galadriel again but Legolas was not complaining, it was good to have the dwarf at his side for one last journey. For as long as Aragorn had ruled over Middle earth, Gimli had been Legolas’ constant companion and they had seen each other through great many things, the loss of Melia and eventually the loss of Gimli’s own wife, Lorin.

Now it was time for them to pass on into legend for the years had caught up with both of them. The time had come for the Fellowship to pass into legend and as its final two members sailed into the horizon, going with them was the Age of Heroes.

* * *

The isle of Valinor was nothing like the descriptions of it that either Legolas or Gimli had heard. It was more. As they crossed the Enchanted Sea, they could see the tall cliffs and the white sands that made up the coastline of the legendary home of the Valar. From the distance, they could see the home of Manwe and Vardaperched atop the peak of Mount Taniquetil, the tallest mountain in all the world. The resplendent beauty of the isle filled their hearts with wonder and took away some of the pain that came with leaving behind everything they knew. The realization that they would soon be reunited with old friends began to loom closer in their minds and suddenly their hearts did not seem so heavy any more.

When the grey ship finally sailed into the Bay of Endamar, past the isle of Tol Eressea, Legolas and Gimli saw the friends that were waiting for them to arrive. He caught sight first of his father and let out a little breath of surprise to note that the woman standing by Thranduil’s side was his mother. Legolas had not seen her in so long that he almost did not remember her. She was smiling at him from the shore, with waves of long golden hair around her shoulders. Also there was Mithrandir and the hobbits, Sam and Frodo. Seeing them made Legolas’ heart heavy for the members of the Fellowship who would not be joining them, most notably Aragorn but also Merry and Pippin and finally even Boromir, who was a good and honorable friend, despite the One Ring’s seduction.

There were happy reunions when the ship finally came to port and Legolas was rather overwhelmed by all the familiar faces. Gimli seemed to take all things in stride and merely contented himself with greeting the members of the Fellowship he knew, leaving Legolas to be reunited with his happy parents. Legolas had been a child when his mother had departed Middle earth and it was with some hesitation that he regarded her but when she smiled at him, mirroring himself in her features, he understood completely why his father had always been so protective of him. He was his mother’s son and the best part of her that Thranduil still had in his keeping when she had left him for Valinor.

When he finally turned joined the Fellowship, after hearty assurances to his parents that he would be with them soon enough, Legolas could not deny how good it was to see his old friends again. He wished, more than anything, that Aragorn was standing with them but contented himself with what he had instead of what he did not. Frodo seemed a good deal more at peace then he had when they had last seen him and Sam was the same, always at his side, ready to protect him no matter what, even in a place where everyone was beyond harm. Gandalf was the same as well, wise and all knowing. He looked at Legolas with an expression that was almost bemusement, as if he had knowledge of some secret joke to which the prince was not aware.

"It’s so good to see you again Master Legolas and Master Gimli," Sam smiled happily as the old friends conferred. "It will be like old times again."

"But with not as much peril," Gandalf added as he gazed upon Legolas and Gimli. "How have you both been?"

"We grew old," Gimli retorted with usual aplomb.

"Well  _you_  look it," Frodo joked and then glanced at Legolas, "he doesn’t though."

"Damn elves," Gimli snorted.

"Remind me again why I invited you to come with me," Legolas teased, giving the dwarf a little look.

"To keep you from getting lost," Gimli retorted. "You know you could not find your way out of a room without me."

"I forgot," Legolas nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Well it looks like some things never change," Gandalf chuckled softly.

Legolas was about to join his laughter when suddenly, a feeling of familiarity struck him and it was nothing to do with the friends present. For an instant, his heart stopped beating because he recognized when he had last felt this way and he was struck with the impossible thought that somehow the gods had favored him with a wondrous gift. For an eternity of time, he dared not breathe until he heard her voice behind him.

"So it this the famous Legolas you have been telling me about Frodo?"

Legolas turned around and found himself staring at a young woman who was not much older in appearance than he. She was clearly elven with long dark hair, soft brown eyes and luminescent skin that could only come of being Eldar born. She reminded him a little of the Evenstar though she was not the ravishing beauty that Arwen had been. Still there was a loveliness in her features that was hers alone and she stood before him, her eyes studying him with great interest.

"Yes," Frodo let out a heavy sigh as if he were a little embarrassed by her sudden interruption of this reunion between old friends. "Legolas, Gimli, this is Ariel."

"Ariel?" Gimli asked. "Named after Arien no doubt."

Legolas stared at her for a moment, saying nothing because he was still too lost in astonishment to form the words. Outwardly, she bore little resemblance to anyone he had met before but when she stared at him, with a little smile of amusement at his scrutiny, Legolas swore that he knew her. He had no idea how it was possible, how an elven woman born in the Undying Lands could share the same soul as the wife he had buried in Middle earth years before but there was no denying it. His heart recognized its soul mate and leapt at the excitement at being near it again.

"Ariel was born here," Gandalf explained, with a hint of knowing in his voice. "By elvish standards she is but a child. She is only fifty years old, born on Midsummer’s Eve."

"Midsummer’s Eve?" Gimli’s eyes widened, recognizing the significance of that date as well as Legolas.

"Yes, Midsummer’s Eve and I am standing right here you now," the woman said impatiently.

Legolas swallowed thickly, his spirit bursting with life for the first time in fifty years. He did not know how it could be but somehow, possibly through the grace of Iluvutar or some unknown power that ensured that soul mates throughout the ages would find each other again, Melia had been returned to him in the form of this elven maid. Ariel would not know him and she would know nothing of the life they had shared together but Legolas would love her just the same because in time, she would come to love him as well, for they were meant to be.

Ariel stared at the elf before her with interest, pleasantly surprised because Frodo’s description of the Prince had not done the elf justice. She did not know why but she felt drawn to the handsome elf though he appeared a little pale upon seeing her.

"So, are you as good with that thing as they say?" She asked, glancing at the bow strapped to his back after composing her thoughts a little better.

"I have been known to be proficient," Legolas replied softly, trying to hide the emotion in his face though Gimli and Gandalf knew all too well what he was feeling.

"Well then," she replied with a playful lilt to her voice. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"I doubt you will be rid of me," Legolas could not help but remark.

Her brow arched slightly and she gave him a long stare, "I have this feeling you are going to be more trouble then you are worth."

And with a smile that told all before him that he had truly come home, Legolas Greenleaf met Ariel’s gaze and remarked playfully, "I would say that I am not the only one."

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
